Page 12 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

"Bullshit," Damien scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Lev, you're telling me our own bookkeeper was embezzling from us?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I rub the back of my neck, frustration mounting. "I didn't want to involve anyone else because Boris and you have so much on your plate already, so I kept it quiet. And the girl… Pippa…" I hesitate, trying to find the right words to explain the mess I've found myself in. "She's collateral damage."

"Collateral damage?" Damien echoes, his anger turning into disbelief. "Lev, you kidnapped an innocent woman because of some idiot's mistake?"

"Hey, I didn't know she was innocent when I took her, alright?" I defend myself, feeling a strange mix of guilt and frustration. "And it's not like we can just let her go now."

"Clearly," Damien mutters, the sarcasm dripping from his words. "Because of you, we’ve got an innocent woman stuck in the middle of this mess. How did that even happen?"

"Look," I sigh, raking my hand through my hair. "I thought that if I kidnapped his daughter, he’d be forced to pay us back in exchange for her. Turns out, she’s not his daughter. Her name is Pippa Anderson, and she works for Lenny. I didn't realize it was a mistake until after I took her."

"Jesus Christ, Lev." Damien pinches the bridge of his nose, looking like he might explode with anger at any moment. "So what's the plan now? You can't just keep her here indefinitely."

"Of course not," I snap, feeling defensive. "I'm working on a solution, alright? I just… I didn't expect things to spiral like this."

"Didn't expect it?" Damien shakes his head, disbelief written all over his face. "You kidnapped a woman, Lev. Exactly what were you thinking?”

"Alright, enough!" I throw up my hands in exasperation. "I know I fucked up, and I'm going to fix it. But right now, I need your support, not your sarcasm."

Damien stares at me for a moment, the anger in his eyes slowly being replaced by something more understanding. He sighs, running a hand through his own hair, and nods.

"Fine," he concedes, looking as if saying the word physically pains him. “What’s your grand solution?”

"Alright," I say, grateful that he’s finally listening instead of attacking. Now, I need to come up with a plausible lie. "First things first, we're going to keep Pippa here as leverage. At least until we have a better handle on this Lenny situation. I believe he will try to secure her release, or if not, she can give us some information that might help us find him since he’s escaped."

"Lev," Damien warns, his tone cautious. "Do what you must, but don't get too attached to her. We both know how these things can spiral out of control."

"Attached?" I scoff, trying to keep my voice steady and unaffected. "She's just an asset, a bargaining chip. That's all.

"Good," Damien replies, but there's something in his eyes that tells me he doesn't entirely believe me. “So you’ve got this handled?”

I nod with all the confidence I can muster.

"I won’t tell Boris for now. But only because you were trying to help us in the first place, and I know you wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't have a good reason. Just… don't make me regret this, okay?"

"Trust me," I promise, feeling a mix of relief and determination. "I won't."

***

Once Damien leaves, I stride down the hallway toward the room where Pippa is being held. I need answers as to what exactly it was she was thinking when she tried to run. The air feels electric, charged with the anticipation of our confrontation. As I reach the door, my heart beats faster—not from fear or uncertainty but from the undeniable pull this woman has on me.

I take a deep breath and push open the door. “What the hell were you thinking?” I bellow at her.

There she is, sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing an extra-large T-shirt and blue jeans. She looks up at me and then looks away.

“Pippa,” I saw in a low growl, walking over to her. I place my hand under her chin and force her to look up. As her eyes meet mine, I momentarily lose myself in the earthiness of her eyes. Then, she looks away, pulling her chin out of my hand with a defiance that intrigues me. She’s got a spirit that refuses to be held down.

It’s an innocence the world will take from her soon enough.

“Pippa,” I ask again. “Why did you think it a good idea to run? If any one of my men saw you, they could have shot you dead on the spot. Don’t you understand that?” I touch her shoulder for a response.

She pulls away from my touch and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, I notice her fiery defiance momentarily hidden behind a veil of tears. My gut clenches at the sight of her crying, and against my better judgment, I feel compelled to comfort her.

"Hey," I say softly, confused by the onslaught of emotions the sight of her crying reigns down on me. "There's no need for that."

"Go away!" she snaps, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice trembles with anger, but I'm not fooled. She’s in pain, and I put her in this position.

My heart lurches with regret. I sit down beside her. “Pippa,” I begin. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

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