Bound by DesireA DARK MAFIA ARRANGED MARRIAGE ROMANCE

BORN IN BLOOD

BOOK ONE

IVY DAVIS

Copyright 2024 by Ivy Davis - All rights reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

All rights reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Bonus Content

Chapter

One

MIKHAIL

Iknow the moment I see her she will be mine. Her porcelain skin is untouched. Her plump lips have never been kissed. I know I had to have her when I watched her dancing on that stage with her sisters.

The only question is—how am I going to do it?

I’m a man born in darkness. I prefer the shadows to the light. I have felt death and destruction, both done to me and by my own hands.

And Sofiya Morozova is destined to be mine, whether she wants to be or not.

SOFIYA

My younger sister, Mila, clings to me as we watch our parents’ coffins descend into the ground. Mila is sobbing. Her tears stain my dress, but I don’t care. If she were doing this to Viktoryia, our older sister, then she would have been scolded, even on the day of our mom and dad’s funeral. But not me. I would never scold Mila because all I feel is emptiness.

Our mom and dad are dead. Killed by a bullet to the brain—both of them. I remember when the police told me the news. Shock and confusion had filled me. How could someone kill them?

Not why, though. I knew why someone would kill them.

My father, Denis Morozova, was head of the Bratva in New York. He had a lot of enemies, even though he never told my sisters or me about who those could be. He tried to keep us sheltered, but you can only be sheltered for so long when you belong to the Bratva. It holds you in a tight grip and never lets you go.

It holds me now as my father’s coffin is fully laid into the ground. The Bratva will only hold me tighter in its grip. Because my father is dead, and my sisters and I are not safe.

I gaze around at the other attendees. Mostly men, with a few women sprinkled in. The more I look around, the more acutely aware I am my sisters and I are the youngest women there. The other women are wives to the men who worked for and with my father. They’re all strangers to me, though, so I just assume they were coworkers. A spike of fear goes down my spine at the thought that a lot of these men might be enemies. That they might even be the men who killed my father and mother.

My mother. My poor, sweet mother. Ania Morozova did not deserve to die. Where my father filled our world with darkness, my mother filled it with light. She showed each of us affection, never playing favorites. I know we all loved her, and her death hits the hardest because she was an innocent. She didn’t have enemies, but being associated with my father put a target on her back.

I’m amazed my sisters and I are alive, but I know the target that went after our parents will come after us next.

The only way to protect ourselves is through marriage, which scares me. I’m twenty-two, which may be too young to be married to non-Bratva people, but to the Bratva, I’m more than old enough. I know my father kept us protected. He could have married us off at a younger age, but he didn’t.

And now, as I look around at the men gazing at us with lust and darkness, I know we won’t be spared. These men are coming for us. They want to eat us alive.

We don’t have a man in our lives who can protect us. We’re all alone.

I should be focused only on grieving right now, but instead, my brain and body are filled with fear.