Page 30 of The Bratva King's Pregnant Bride

With dread, I considered that he might do worse, like rape me; however, when I looked up, it was to see his face glued to the screen.

“My day is about to get better.” Mike grinned, his teeth red with blood. “It’s already going well—just a few hitches.” He wiped the blood from his lips. “This is going to be satisfying.”

My gaze moved to the screen to see a black car pulling into the factory. Dominik. I didn’t want to watch him die.

I whimpered and looked away, but Mike walked up to me, grabbed my face, and positioned it to the screen.

I closed my eyes. I really didn’t want to see this part.

“If you don’t look, I’ll kill you first,” Mike hissed in my ear.

To me, it wasn’t much of a threat; I was slowly beginning to accept my reality. Dominik would die, and I would die next.

However, for some reason, I opened my eyes; some sick fascination made me watch as Dominik’s car came to a stop. Before the door could open, bullets hit the car from all sides, piercing it.

I jerked.

I prayed Dominik would survive somehow, but the men continued to fire on the car, riddling it with bullets while Mike chuckled.

The gunshots stopped, and the men closed in on the car. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled not to cry out loud, coming to terms with the fact that Dominik was dead.

Two men approached cautiously till they reached the car. Mike released me and straightened as he got out a walkie talkie.

“Open it,” he barked.

“Alright, boss,” a voice from the device replied.

They opened the passenger side, only to find it empty.

The men looked at each other in confusion.

I looked at Mike, who frowned and gripped the walkie talkie. “What’s going on?”

“There’s no one in the car, sir. It was on automatic mode.”

Hope blossomed in my heart as I wondered what Dominik was up to. Dominik. It was good to think his name again, knowing he wasn’t dead.

Mike’s scowl grew savage, his eyes darkening.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, careful not to draw Mike’s attention.

More of Mike’s men approached the car, as if to check it out. Suddenly, a bright light burst out of the car; men were tossed to the ground, and the CCTV feed went dark.

Mike twitched, but I remained still, watching, wondering what really was happening.

The door opened, and Mike snapped, “I don’t wish to be disturbed.”

“You’d be disturbed alright,” came a heart-lifting voice. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was, but from the look on Mike’s face, he hadn’t been expecting this.

Men briskly surrounded us, guns raised and trained on Mike, while I felt my bonds loosen.

Mike’s men desperately stormed into the room through the entrance before us, but they were quickly subdued by gunfire, not even having the chance to fire a single shot.

In the blink of an eye, Mike’s men were incapacitated—possibly dead—and I couldn’t help but wonder how many there were inside this warehouse. More than twenty, for certain. Perhaps two dozen?

Like something out of a dream, Dominik walked up to me, his hand lifting to my face to brush over the place Mike slapped me. I could still feel the sting of his palm as Dominik ran his hand over the spot. His eyes burned with anger.

Dominik’s fingers brushed across my lower lip, where I felt something wet. It made me remember how Mike had kissed me before the shooting started.

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