Page 13 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

In response, I hear her hold back a sob.

"Pippa," I murmur, feeling a rare pang of guilt in my chest. Her tears are like tiny needles pricking at the edges of my conscience, a sensation I rarely allow to creep in. "I messed up, and I'm sorry. But you have to understand, I had no choice."

Her wet eyes meet mine. “No choice?” she whimpers, wiping away the tears with the back of her sleeve. Immediately, I pull out a handkerchief and hand it to her. She takes it with a silent nod in thanks.

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words to explain myself without revealing too much. "It's… complicated. Look, I can't let you go until I can think of a next step. I made a mistake keeping you here, and then… well,” I can’t find the words to tell her how I really feel. That she’s too rare a woman to just let go off without truly exploring first.

She sniffs, looking at me warily as if trying to decipher the truth in my words. Her chest begins to heave, as a new wave of crying takes over.

I reach over and place my arm around her soft shoulders, trying to comfort her. “Please, Pippa. Don’t cry.”

To my surprise, she leans into my chest. It takes everything in me not to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

Her sobs shake her curvy frame, and a part of me crumbles at the sound of her pain. As she leans into me, seeking solace, an unfamiliar warmth spreads through my chest. It's a feeling I don't quite understand but can't ignore.

"Pippa," I murmur softly, my hand rubbing soothing circles along the love handles on her back. “I promise everything is going to be alright.”

And then, to my surprise, I feel her punch me in my stomach.

I pull away not from the pain but the shock of her action. Her dainty wrists are no match for my abs, which I work out every single day.

“Seriously?” I bellow at her in rage. “Have you been faking these tears this whole time?”

She leaps to her feet, fists clenched at her sides.

"Stop playing games," I warn, my patience wearing thin. "I'm trying to help you here."

"Help me?" she repeats incredulously. "By keeping me locked in this room like some kind of prisoner?"

"I’ve given you enough explanations and perhaps treated you far too well," I retort, my voice rising as I jump to my feet and tower over her. "But after you just tried to punch me, there’s no way in hell I’m going to give you any further answers!”

I brace myself for her attack, ready to subdue her if necessary. But instead of a punch or a kick, she tears up once more, her eyes glistening with unshed waterworks. "Please don't hurt me," she whimpers, her lower lip quivering.

I relax just a little, but then, without warning, she lunges forward with a surprising burst of energy and swings her fist toward my face. It's impressive how quickly she can turn those tears on and off, really.

Her determination is admirable, but her aim leaves much to be desired. I catch her wrist just before her knuckles make contact with my cheek, holding her in place as her eyes flash with frustration.

"Nice try," I say dryly, releasing her wrist. "But I'm not that easy to take down."

"Maybe not," she replies, rubbing her wrist and glaring at me. "But I won't stop trying."

"Keep that up, and we'll both regret it," I mutter under my breath, taking a step back. Pippa may be a thorn in my side, but something about her refusal to back down stirs a strange feeling within me, one I can't quite place—and that unnerves me more than anything else.

Pippa lunges at me again, her fiery spirit catching me off guard. I react with lightning speed, stepping to the side and trapping her against the wall with my body. My arm presses against her throat just enough to remind her of the precarious situation she's in. Despite the danger, a proud smirk tugs at her lips.

"Stubborn, aren't you?" I remark, impressed by her tenacity.

"Like you're any better," she retorts, struggling to free herself from my hold.

"True," I admit, my face inches from hers. "But I have more experience in this game, so I'd advise you to stop provoking me."

"Or what? You'll kill me?" Pippa challenges me, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Nothing so dramatic," I reply, a wicked grin spreading across my face. "If you keep misbehaving, I might just have to kiss you to shut you up."

Her eyes widen, and for a brief moment, something dreamy flickers across her face before she regains her composure. "You wouldn't dare,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

"Try me," I challenge, tightening my grip around her. The tension between us crackles like electricity, setting every nerve in my body on fire. I feel the blood rush to my cock, and suddenly, I feel like I need to be careful around her. This attraction is dangerous—I shouldn't be feeling this way about someone I'm holding hostage.

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