Page 28 of The Bratva King's Pregnant Bride

“Think. This could mean your end, Dominik!”

“I don’t care.” I grabbed the keys to my mustang from the table and, with the Devil’s own scowl on my face, aimed for the door.

I didn’t need to turn to know that Artem was right behind me. He was on the phone. Clearly, he would make sure there was backup should things go south, though sometimes I believed his precautions were a bit excessive.

I found my way down to the underground garage, striding past several exotic cars. Looking around, I saw armed men in dark suits loitering around twenty of them, waiting for me.

I sighed. Artem had, indeed, overdone it. Each man had a solemn look revenge on his face. With a single word from me, they were ready to go to war.

I didn’t have time to entertain the idea, though—not with Maya’s life on the line.

Wordlessly, I unlocked my sleek black Mustang, sliding into the driver’s side, and Artem joined me in the passenger seat. All around, car doors slammed shut, each bang echoing like a gunshot.

I started the car, and the engine roared to life, sending powerful vibrations up my legs as it settled into a purr.

The Mustang’s purring hum transformed to an angry roar as I drove up a ramp and out of the garage. A line of exotic cars, all a sleek, uniform black, trailed behind, keeping their distance.

I was a fool. Maya hadn’t tried to charm me—or anything of the sort. I had slept with hundreds of women, and some had ridden me in ways that drove me insane… but, for some reason, I had zeroed in on this one girl, focusing on getting her—and only her. Everything in my being wanted her.

I turned to Artem. “If anything happens to Maya, I won’t forgive you.”

Shrugging, he raised a brow. “Your life is far more important to me. I would rather have you not forgive me then face the wrath of your family for letting you die.”

And that’s how loyal Artem was.

My phone, linked via Bluetooth to the car’s speakers, rang. I answered, and a voice came through the speakers.

“Boss?”

“Fill me in.”

“There’s so much action here, Boss—they’re expecting you. Also, you’re going the wrong way: Certain death awaits you at the old factory, Boss. Head to the warehouse on Seventh. I’ve got to go before they notice I’m gone.”

I voiced my thanks and ended the call.

Artem grinned. “One of ours?”

“You got that right.”

“How? When?”

“Not too long,” I said, smirking. “When Mike returned, I told you to put spies on him. However, I was certain he’d know I had eyes in the city, and he would know how to avoid them—and he did. However, Mike, being Mike, was looking for muscles, so I decided to give him one of ours.”

I glanced at Artem to see a questioning look in his eyes, so I explained. “A fresh catch—no markings on him yet. He was our best fit. I didn’t run it by you or anyone at the Bratva, wanting to keep him under the radar.”

Ignoring the glower on Artem’s face, I waved a hand and turned back to the road. “Anyway, he blended right in. Since then, he’s been keeping me updated on Mike’s movements.”

“Meaning, you knew they were going to take Maya?”

I shrugged.

“You could have stopped it,” Artem said, his voice flat.

“Now, where would be the fun in that?”

Shaking his head, Artem grinned. “Always two steps ahead, Boss. Fucking brilliant.”

I gave a half smile. I didn’t really think it was all that impressive; as far as I was concerned, it couldn’t possibly be that hard to figure out what was happening. I have spies everywhere, watching everything, so knowing exactly when something might happen, who might be involved, or what direction someone might try to take is just par for the course.

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