Page 67 of Used By the Bratva

“Are you sure he’s there?” I ask, looking over at him. “We can’t be wrong. If you’re wrong, I’ll kill you for it.”

Denis swallows hard and puts his laptop in the back seat. “I’m not wrong about that. He sent the address to one of his men about ten minutes ago. Judging by the messages, there are a dozen men with him.”

I glance in the rear-view mirror as six cars follow behind me. “We have almost double the number of men. When we get there, we’ll park down the road. We’ll move quickly and quietly and kill anyone who isn’t Natalie.”

Denis nods, one hand on the dashboard to brace himself as I take another bend a little too tight. “You’ll kill us before we get there if you keep driving like this. You must stay calm now.”

“There is no calm about this. The bastard has kidnapped my wife. He thought he could take her from me, and there’s no telling what that sick fuck is doing to her right now.”

“I know, but from what I can tell, she seems like a woman who can handle herself, at least when she knows you’re coming for her.”

“She knows that there’s no way I’m leaving her alone in this.” I speed faster down the road, needing to get to her. The last thing I want is for her to think I'm abandoning her.

There’s no way that’s ever going to happen.

She is my wife. I swore to protect her and keep her safe. I’ve already failed to do that once today, but it won't happen a second time.

As we approach Carlo’s hiding place, I slow down and park at the vineyard next door instead of his.

My men park behind me, grabbing weapons as I grab my gun from the glovebox.

I get out and look at them. “There are a dozen men inside, but there could be more. We’ll sneak through the vineyard. You kill anyone who isn’t Natalie but leave Carlo for me. That bastard will pay for kidnapping her.”

The men nod, split into pairs, and jog on Carlo’s property. They disappear between the trees and the vines.

I put the silencer on my gun and run with Denis, who quickly takes the lead.

When we reach the house, Denis steps to the side of the front door and waits for me to open it. My hand closes around the doorknob, and I turn it, and a man rushes forward.

I step in, press my gun to his temple, and pull the trigger. Denis catches his body before he can hit the ground. He drops the man on the floor and drags him to a corner as screams ring out from inside the house.

Italian curses flow through the hall and grow louder as I run in that direction.

It must be Carlo who is shouting. My men wouldn’t allow the others to make noise and alert Carlo to our presence. The shouting continues, but it sounds like the commotion is dying down as I hurry down the hallway, stopping at each door long enough to listen.

As I stop in front of one of the white doors, faint voices can be heard from the other side.

“If you come any closer, I’ll ram this right into your throat, you filthy bastard.”

Yep, that’s my wife.

Denis is standing behind me; his gaze is serious as I kick the door open.

There’s food scattered on the floor; Natalie is standing in the corner, shards of glass at her feet and a bottle in her hand. Carlo stands in front of her with a bloody cut on his face.

My chest swells with pride as Carlo turns and looks at me.

His smug grin stretches from ear to ear. “I was wondering when you would join the party. I was hoping to have a little more fun with your wife first, but she’s not a very obedient woman.”

My gaze falls to the gun on his hip before I glance over at her. “Get the fuck away from her.”

Carlo quickly pounces on her and tries to put his hands around her neck. I fly after him and ram my gun into the side of his head while Natalie screams and slashes him with the broken glass.

She delivers a large cut to his arm. Her hand trembles as she holds the bottle tighter and takes a step back.

Carlo ignores her, grabs me, and pushes me back against the wall. He reaches for my gun, but I'm quicker and whip it in his face again. His nose crunches under the impact.

He spits blood in my face, laughs, and pulls me away from the wall before slamming me back against it again. “You always were a vicious bastard, weren’t you, Leon?”

---