Page 34 of Used By the Bratva

An acrid taste fills my throat as I lunge to my feet and rush to the bathroom, flinging up the lid of the toilet and throwing up. All these thoughts make me sick. What a fucking mess.

I rinse and get up to wash my mouth out with water before sitting on the edge of the bathtub. The porcelain is cool against the back of my legs, but it does little to calm the storm ahead of me.

The decision to keep the baby a secret from him feels like the right decision, at least for now, especially now that I know who this man really is and what he's capable of.

I don’t know where I am, but I can assume that Leon is the one keeping me here. What I don’t know is why.

Why would he lock me up when he could have killed me in his office yesterday?

Does he want to torture me? Leon is a sick bastard who would rather see me hurt and fall to pieces, rather than kill me right away.

This would never have happened if I hadn’t come to New York.

If I hadn’t found Boris, I would have been left with a million questions, but I wouldn’t be waiting for a murderer to decide what to do with me.

The father of my child is going to kill me.

Although, if I tell him I’m pregnant, I don’t know if I'd be any better off. I can’t raise a baby with him. There is no way I would allow my child to be exposed to that kind of violence.

To this life.

I should have listened to Marina and stayed home with her, where it was safe.

Chapter 15 - Leon

The screaming and banging on the door have stopped, but I can hear her pacing the room like a caged animal. She would be furious if she heard me standing on the other side of the door, listening to her tantrum as she tried to escape from my house.

There is no escape for her. Not anymore.

She’s a smart girl and a fighter, but she should never have looked for her family. Natalie should have accepted the good life I gave her in Russia and stayed there, getting married and having children. She should have spent the rest of her life happily, not knowing that her family was dead.

Smirking, I lean against the wall and listen to her soft curses, a muffled sound coming from what she does next. After a few more minutes, the sound of her retching comes through the door.

Satisfied with what I hear, I descend the curved staircase into the foyer and enter the sunroom, where my morning coffee still awaits me. Steam rises from the white cup as I sit on the emerald green couch and look out over the manicured garden stretching to the trees on this side of the house.

“Can I get you anything else?” Rosalie asks as she enters the room with her arms crossed and a feather duster in one hand. “Is there anything you want me to send up to the girl?”

“No. It’s better if she sits in the room for a little longer. Pick her up in an hour and bring her here. If she tries to escape, use whatever force necessary to stop her.”

Rosalie presses her lips together and bows her head slightly before turning around and walking out of the room. She clearly disagrees with what’s happening here, but she won't say anything about it.

I pay her good money to keep her mouth shut.

As I sip my coffee, I pull out my phone and call Boris. The line rings once before he picks it up.

“Boss.”

“I have decided we will be gone longer than I originally thought. This is about breaking her and bending her to my will. I want you to check my businesses and ensure my men stay in line.”

“Will do, boss. Is she alright after passing out?”

I sigh and swirl the coffee around in my cup before taking another sip to let the caffeine drive the last of the exhaustion from my veins. “She’s fine. She's banging on the door and screaming like a banshee. I think she’s finally calmed down.”

His laughter roars in my earpiece. “Sounds like she will give you a run for your money.”

“One way or another, she will learn to obey me.” I kick my feet up on the wooden coffee table. “It’s better for her if she learns that quickly.”

“Do you want me to tell Maxim where you are when he asks?”