Shackled (Wicked Vows #5) Read Online Jane Henry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Vows Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
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A steamy, forced marriage, enemies-to-lovers, close proximity dark Bratva stand-alone romance by USA Today bestselling author, Jane Henry

In the dark shadows of the Bratva Underworld, where my family reigns, there are no rules — only power.

My life is black and white. Every choice designed to protect my family and crush our enemies.

Trust is a luxury I can't afford.

Then she comes—Isabella Morales, disguised as a boy, burning with defiance and danger.

Forbidden fruit, the daughter of rival cartel, she holds secrets that could unravel everything I've fought for. Letting her live could be my demise.

But now she’s mine.

When she tries to run, I catch her. I vow I’ll punish her for what she’s done and teach her there’s no escape. But Isabella is no ordinary captive. Half crazed, fearless, and seductive, the line between captor and captive quickly blurs.

In a world where loyalty is bought with blood and fear, Isabella is the one weakness I can't afford. But as our enemies close in, we’re forced to navigate the deadly game of power and deceit.

I’ll bind her to me and make her mine in a battle where surrender is the ultimate sin.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Isabella

I grin into the chilly autumn night, nearly skipping with glee.

This disguise is so fucking awesome. Literally, no one would ever suspect who I really am.

This was no last-minute disguise. Hell, I’ve been practicing wearing this all day.

First, the fake mustache because even the best disguise won’t fully cover my Latina roots. Colombian men wear their beards like a badge of honor, their “five o’clock shadows” creeping in by noon. I have to blend in seamlessly. With a swift, practiced hand, I applied foundation to rough up my complexion. I’m aiming for rugged and badass. Contour sharpened my jawline and an eyebrow pencil added the perfect amount of stubble.

I refuse to cut my hair, so that was a tiny bit of a challenge. It’s slicked back and wound around my head, tucked under a black cap. Bulky, but no one will be paying attention.

I needed a masculine silhouette, so I had to wear a chest binder to flatten my breasts, thanks to my mama’s generous genes. At least she gave me something. The clothing was kind of fun—a dark hoodie that conceals my figure and baggy pants with multiple pockets to give me some heft and a rugged appearance, paired with combat boots. I needed something masculine and practical for moving silently and blending in.

To mimic male body language, I adopted a slouched posture and broader stance, my walk more deliberate and heavy footed. Even if they saw me, they’d never suspect who I really am. Sadly, I have to mask the sexy hip sway. I have to do this consciously, since it’s part of my whole persona to attract the eye and attention of any man within a fifty-yard radius. A girl must use every gift she’s got.

This is only temporary, though. And fucking necessary.

And when I was ready to go, I took myself into The Cove—the prowling ground of our enemies—just to test it all out.

Not gonna lie, I had a damn good time for myself. I spoke in a deeper voice when I needed to—ordered coffee and asked for directions just to make sure I passed the test.

Not only did no one give me so much as a strange look, I caught a few girls making eyes at me.

“Hola, beautiful,” I said in my guy voice to a slender blonde near Starbucks. She blushed but didn’t respond, then whispered to her friend behind me, who I winked at. Heh.

Truth is, I wouldn’t want to be a man for all the money in the world. I fucking love being a woman. But damn, it was fun to play for a little while.

And now, I’m ready. Now, it’s go time.

I steel myself and clench my jaw. Now I take the next step.

If the Romanovs see me now, I’m still fucked, but at least they won’t suspect who I really am. I’ll get away—I always do—and they’ll be none the wiser.

I intercepted communication between Aleksandr Romanov, one of the high-ranking officials in the Romanov Bratva, and his wife, Harper. They have small children and long, sleepless nights, so I figured eventually they’d get sloppy, and I wasn’t wrong.

I mean, anyone else might’ve totally missed the little tip-off, but when Aleksandr told his wife got another late night, and she responded, please be careful, it’s so dark there, and I don’t trust you’re safe, I knew exactly where they were going.

Who’s going? she asked.

My heart took a giant leap at his response: All of us.

It’s rare that all of the Romanov men are together.

Some of their wives work for them—I have it on good authority that Viktor’s new wife Lydia actually set fire to her ex. Nevertheless, the Romanovs are still in the Dark Ages. They’d deny it. Hell, their wives draw a salary, but I’m not impressed. Show me a Bratva group with a woman in actual fucking power. Authority. Leadership.

Now that would impress me.

The snap of a branch several yards to my left makes me freeze in my tracks. I stand as still as a hunted deer, listening. The Romanovs won’t be here for several hours yet, but it’s essential I’m not seen.

I wait, holding my breath. Listening. Is someone else here, or is it just an animal?

Another beat passes. Another.

Nothing.

I move on. I know exactly where to go: The abandoned warehouse, deeply hidden past a hiking trail in The Cove, is heavily secured with video surveillance. If the Romanovs see me on any security camera, they’ll just see a random dude going for a hike off-trail.

They might wonder how their security footage was destroyed, but by then, I’ll have everything I need.

The darkness and silence amplify every sound, making me hyper-aware of my surroundings. I only have about another mile to hike before I get to the entrance, but the night is young. I couldn’t risk driving anywhere near here for fear of being seen.


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