Sanctum: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance (Wicked Vows)

I HATE LEAVING Harper and Ivy, but it has to be done.

I’ve got shit to do.

Gleaming under the moonlight, engine purring, the pitch-black coupe nearly blends into the night. I check my weapons and slide into the driver’s seat.

Viktor sits beside me, a silent testament of power. Our human weapon. Nikko’s behind me. Lev next to him.

We’re heading to Harper’s family home.

“Tell us everything,” Viktor says. He likes to know every sordid detail before we go on any kind of mission or hit. It fuels him. If he needs to beat the shit out of someone who owes us money, I’ll make sure he knows the motherfucker beats his wife when he loses a bet.

So I tell them everything. “And the last time Harper found one of her father’s guns, he beat her.”

“To be fair,” Lev says, “if I found one of my kids holding one of my guns, I wouldn’t exactly be Mr. Nice Guy.”

“That’s beside the point,” I growl. I don’t disagree. “We all know there’s a difference between parenting and beating the shit out of someone.”

The worst of it is how Harper felt after having Ivy, though. How she had to hide her and how they shamed her. They’ve used her for years and it’s time they pay the piper.

I remember when I first pulled up the drive to get to her family’s home and left with my bride.

Adrenaline surges through me as we draw closer.

The forest around the estate where I chased her looks mysteriously vacant.

“Aleks…”

“What?” I’m still lost in the memory of the first time I touched her. Chased her. Captured her.

Now I can’t be sure I’m not the one that’s been captured.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Viktor asks. “There’s no signs of anyone living here.”

He’s right. As we pull further up the driveway, I note ours is the only car. The front porch is swept clean. There’s no welcome mat, no wreath on the door. Not a light on inside. A buildup of collected mail sits on the ground below the overflowing mailbox.

Goddammit.

Did they go away after they visited us? That doesn’t make sense…

“Strange.” I cut the engine, mentally cursing because I came here tonight with a purpose.

We get out of the car in silence, stealthy and quiet, all of us dressed in black, masks pulled on.

I expect the front door to be locked, but when I turn the handle, it opens.

I push it inward.

I can at least leave them a warning. A message.

“Motherfucking son of a bitch,” I grumble under my breath as my brothers fill the space behind me.

“They fucking played you, brother,” Viktor mutters.

You’ll see soon enough, she told me.

My parents have no money, she said.

The home is swept clean, not a single piece of evidence that anyone’s living here. The fridge is empty. There’s not even so much as a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.

I go upstairs to where Harper’s room was and know what to expect. I’m not surprised to find it also completely cleaned out. But when I open the closet, something catches my eye.

I tuck the little box into my pocket then walk back downstairs to where Lev’s pointing to a sign. “Aleks? You see this?”

Right on the kitchen island is a little cardboard foldout with the words AIR BNB. Thank you for visiting!

I shake my head and pull out my phone.

Google the address.

The first hit pulls up a rental place.

How did Aria and I miss this? Harper’s brother gave Mikhail an address and I got it directly from him. We never looked beyond that.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Harper knew this was a rental home. She knew her family had nothing.

You’ve been played.

A text comes in from Mikhail. I scowl at the phone and shake my head.

What else has she lied to me about?