Page 4 of The Bratva's Forced Bride

“Hurry up with it; we’ll be there soon,” I mumbled, focusing on the road ahead.

“Why are we hacking the NYU database anyway?”

While it sounded ridiculous, it was all I had left. “Because we’re going to get what belongs to me now.”

When Vik went silent, I glanced over at him to find his weary expression. It was obvious he didn’t like the idea of taking the girl.

Always the hero, never the villain. But he couldn’t stay that way, not in our line of work.

“Where can we find her?” I snapped at him, watching as Vik continued to scroll frantically.

“She’s staying in residence on campus…In Greenwich,” Vik answered reluctantly. “I have her floor and apartment numbers.”

“Good. It won’t be long now.”

Chapter 2 - Grace

Dropping my keys onto the small kitchen counter was an unspoken moment of peace—a release of tension from the long day I had.

The door closed behind me, and I took the chance to let go of a deep breath.

The dorm was quiet and almost painfully still compared to the bustling campus grounds, but I soaked it up. I needed to slow down and appreciate how nice it was to hear my thoughts again.

While staying in a single-person apartment wasn’t the best arrangement for making friends, it did lend the privacy and silence I craved.

It was proving to be a bit of a challenge since a few days had already gone by, and I was feeling lonelier with every passing day. It just meant that I needed to try harder to find friends.

Just as I contemplated getting started making dinner or flopping onto the worn-out couch for some relaxing time, my phone rang from inside my back pocket.

Slipping it out of my jeans, I spotted my dad’s contact on the display. Immediately, my stomach dropped, and a sense of dread filled me

While I should’ve been homesick by then, and longing to see my dad again, I wasn’t. A week didn’t feel long enough for me to want to speak to him.

It wasn’t the best outlook to have, but our connection was no better.

My stomach was in knots, but I couldn’t just leave him hanging. I never knew what he’d be calling about, and I didn’t want to miss something potentially important.

Pressing the accept button, the call connected.

“Hello?”

“Grace, my darling!”

From the slur of his words, along with the exaggerated happiness in his voice, I knew he was hammered. There was no missing that tone. I had to give him credit, at least it was after five.

That dread turned into a rock in my stomach.

When I caught his sniffle, I furrowed my brows. “What’s going on?”

“Can a father not call his daughter?” He asked me, sounding more nasally than normal like he was stuffed up. It was strange, and I couldn’t ignore it.

“You’re drunk, Dad.”

“I know…I…”

There was shuffling on the other side, and a moment of silence before I caught what sounded like near-silent sobbing.

“I don’t mean to do this to you, Grace, but something has happened,” he managed despite the tears. He continued to ramble, and it was almost impossible to understand him.

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