His Bratva Princess

Chapter 29

Warning: this chapter may include sensitive information for some viewers. Mention of physical and sexual abuse is included. Please view at your own risk. Recommended for 18+⚠️
Sofia

      The sound of water droplets falling on the ground in pitter patter motions is the sound I wake up to. I slowly blink my eyes open and am woken to a dark, depressing, concrete room. I go to swallow, but am meant with an excruciating burning feeling in my throat.
      "Rise and shine sunshine," an unfamiliar Irish voice booms out in the room.
      My head aches and his voice only makes it worse. I try to look at the tall figure standing in front of me, however my vision is a blur. Instead, I ignore him. Silence is more powerful in the precense of the Bratva. However, it also annoys the hell out of the him.
       Pain. Pain is the next thing I feel as I'm dragged by my hair across the floor and closer towards the tall man.
       "Where am I?" I croak through my scratchy voice.
      "So now she speaks," I hear that all so familiar voice of betrayal.
      I manage to muster the strength to look up towards the tall, familiar and disgusting face of the traitor. Dimitri.
     "You fucker," I basically spit at him.
      My vision clears, and he raises his eyebrows and laughs. He actually has the audacity to laugh.
      "Aren't yer just a ray of sunshine, luv," the Irish man speaks. He looks to be in his mid thirties, blonde hair, green eyes and a long ginger beard that does not match his hair at all.
     "Oh I get told that all of the time," I retort.
      The Irish man looks to Dimitri and sighs. He bends down onto his knees and grabs my chin between his index finger and thumb. He doesn't speak. He doesn't show a single fraction of emotion on his face. Instead, I'm met with feeling as if the wind has been knocked out of me with a sharp slap across the face.
     "You will show me respect, Luv," he demands.
      My lips quiver at their own will, to which the Irish man smirks. He brings the pad of his thumb to stroke at my quivering bottom lip.
     "Such big, luscious lips. I know what they would be perfect for," he chuckles. I feel the bile come up my throat, attempting to escape my lips. That's it. I'm either not going to leave this hellhole, or I'm going to leave as not a virgin any longer. He's going to take the last bit of myself that I have left. Please Viktor. Please find me.
       With that said, the Irish man drops his hand and stands up and walks out of ghetto room leaving me with Dimitri. I don't say anything. I hear him chuckle.
      "Viktor was the loosing side," Dimitri speaks.
       I look at him blankly, waiting to see what else he has to say.
     "Sean had all the right ideas. He found me one day. My initial thought was so shoot him. I was so loyal to Viktor. But I soon realised he wouldn't win. After all, I am part Irish. It's only fair I actually support my team, right?" He chuckles at my widened eyes.
     He's an Irish man? If Viktor had of known he never would have let Dimitri be third in command. The Bratva was always their own. The only Bratva that mixed was the Russians and Italians. My father and Viktor's father. They were enemies long before my father and Ivan, however everything changed when they became capo. They realised they were stronger working together.
       "Why become part of the Bratva then?" I ask.
      He shrugs, "I was simply a boy on the streets. I was part of the mob when I was a boy, Sean is my older half-brother. My father disowned me as I was the product of one of his whores, aka, my mother. Viktor found me, living out near trash cans and trying to find food and he let me in. The Bratva have never been my family. Sean came to me one day with his ideas and promised me I'd be second in command with the mob if I helped him."
"But the Bratva was your family. They all treated you like a brother, how could you let that go? For someone you hardly have known and didn't care you were on the streets for how many years? Viktor has been like a brother and you betrayed him. How could you? And you decide to torture him further by taking me?" I exclaim, feeling anger I've never felt before course through my veins.
He slowly walks closer to me and bends down to my height and traces his finger across my neck where I'm sure a very large bruise remains from him choking me.
"That's where you're wrong. As soon as Viktor would have found out I'm an Irish man, he would have killed me. He would have immediately assumed I was the rat. So why not become the rat anyway? I knew one day he'd find my heritage and he wouldn't forgive me for it. So I decided to betray him anyway, without any explanations," he says, as if he's the most intelligent person in the world.
His reasoning is flawed and so so stupid but he's a stubborn male. He thinks that becoming second in command to a man who tortures women and kids is a good thing? He had a family within the Bratva. Not anymore. Viktor will kill him for taking me. He also shot Lev straight in the head, effectively killing him. His actions are unforgivable.
When I start laughing, he raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest.
"And what's so funny?" Dimitri seethes.
"Oh nothing. Just that Viktor's going to kill you. If I were you, I'd run as far as I can. I mean he found me within a matter of hours when I decided to go on a little Greece trip. What's to say you're not just as easy, Dimitri?" My statement angers him as he lunges at me and latches onto my throat with his hand. I laugh through strangled breaths, which angers him further.
"You fucking bitch," he spits in my face, literally.
"I got...you... scared. Didn't I?" I gasp through words.
Dimitri releases my neck and grabs my beautiful wedding dress, that is now tainted with bad memories. He pulls me dress up, making my eyes widen and gets on his knees while bringing my legs around his waist. I scream, in fear of what's to come.
"Don't you fucking touch me! Don't you fucking dare! I will fucking kill you myself," I yell thrashing around trying to get away.
He presses himself against my underwear, disgust soars through me as he does this and kick my legs around trying to get him away.
He bends down to my ear and whispers, "Who's the one scared now, little girl?"
With that, he pushes up from the ground and leaves me lying on the concrete floor, trembling with tears cascading down my face.
Tonight was supposed to be about Viktor and I. He'd take me on our honeymoon and I'd tell him my feelings and we'd probably consummate our marriage. Instead, I'm stuck here with the threat of my innocence being unwillingly taken from me.