Page 54 of Forced Bratva Bride

“We stay low, we keep quiet. This mission is about gathering information, not about anything else,” Paval says.

“Agreed,” I nod.

We walk toward the back of the warehouse, finding a side entrance used by the workers.

Inside, the warehouse is busy. Workers are moving back and forth, packing, moving and organizing crates.

“Stay low,” Paval whispers.

We make our way toward a group of men in business suits. Stefano is talking to them about their order. I recognize them; they're the same two men who were at my warehouse the other day, placing an order with me before shit hit the fan and things went wrong.

Stefano is gunning after our clients.

I was wondering why they were not returning my calls anymore.

We stay crouched behind a wall of crates, making sure we are far away enough not to be spotted.

"That means that we're able to provide secure movement of your order—"

A massive explosion erupts to the left of where the men are standing. Paval grabs me and pushes me to the floor. The crates we are hiding behind begin to sway and tilt. We leap up and run out of the way as they crash to the ground.

Men are shouting, screaming and running away from the direction of the explosion.

The scene is a smaller replica of my own warehouse after the explosion happened there. Only one bomb went off here, but it's still deafening and unleashes mayhem.

“What the fuck just happened?” Paval shouts over the chaos.

“How the fuck should I know?” I shout back.

We stand, knowing we have to get out of here right now. If they see us here, they will obviously think that we are the ones who planted the bomb.

I glance over to where the business men are lying covered in blood, their bodies smashes by the impact. “We have to help them.”

“We have to go,” Paval demands.

“No, we have to help.”

I run toward one of them and roll him over. He's dead. Both of them are dead.

“Stefano is alive, but he is unconscious,” Paval says, kneeling over Stefano’s limp figure.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“He might be seriously injured, but I think we should leave him here to die.”

“No, we take him with us.”

“Maxim—"

“He’s coming with us.”

Paval grinds his jaw but helps me lift Stefano. We carry him out to the car and place him in the back.

“Where are we taking him?”

“My place.”

Paval drives toward my home, where Chiara is waiting.

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