Page 49 of The Bratva's Secret Twins

You got away, Vivian…. You got away.

The thing with the ramp hadn’t fully sunk in yet, either, and I was still marveling at that move. What was I thinking, daring to do what I had?

Was I so desperate to get away from Daniil that I’d risked my life? What if I hadn’t made that jump?

Geez!

You’re crazy, Vivian!

I remembered how fast my heart had been beating, how every atom in my body had screamed at me to hit the brakes. For the first time, the two voices in my head had been on the same page; they both spoke against what I’d thought to do.

There had been no other way to get away from Daniil, so I had to take the risk. He’d almost lost me once; I knew that he would stop at nothing to get me back, and I couldn’t have that. I knew the fate that awaited me should I get caught, so I had to keep going.

The moves with the car were surprising to me because I’d never thought I would drive so recklessly yet carefully at the same time.

I guessed what they said about the power of adrenaline rush was true; the stories of mothers lifting cars to save their babies had seemed so far-fetched to me, but now, I believed them because the same thing had happened to me.

Usually, I’d never have been able to drive like that, but the fear of being caught, the fear of returning to that mansion as something worse than a sex slave, was the key element that kept me going.

I had to get away; I had to.

It had been like I was possessed by a version of me that needed to survive, a version of me I hadn’t known existed. The moves and tactics to evade Daniil and his men had come sporadically and in the nick of time.

“I still can't believe you’re alive,” Tyler repeated, eyes fixed on the road. “What the hell is going on, Viv? Please, talk to me!”

I’d called him after he hadn’t replied to my text. At the time, I’d just sped out of Daniil’s mansion in that cop car without plans on where to run.

He hadn’t known it was me because I’d used the phone I’d stolen to text him.

“I have to admit, when I got that text, I thought it was some expensive prank or something,” he confessed.

I massaged my eyes, thanking the Lord that he’d picked up his phone when I called.

“Hello?” he answered on the other line, seemingly uninterested in whatever I was selling.

“Ty, thank God….”

“Listen to me, punk, if this is a prank….”

“Goddamn it, Ty, pay attention!” I snapped at him in a way he was very familiar with.

“Hold on, Viv? Is that really you?” he stuttered, amazed.

“Yes, now listen, I need your help….”

“How’s this even possible…? I thought—the news said….”

“Focus, Ty!” I barked at him, my eyes fixed on the horizon as the speedometer needle climbed higher and higher, the numbers blurring together.

“Okay, okay,” he replied, confused but trying to stay composed.

“I’m in real trouble. Some very dangerous men are after me right now, and if you don’t help me, I’ll be what the news says I am.”

“Where are you? I’m coming over right now.”

I told him that I didn’t know the name of the place I was but knew where I was heading and asked him how fast it would take him to get there.

“Twenty minutes, give or take,” he replied.

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