Page 3 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

"Wait, what? Let go of me!" I shriek, trying to break free. But his grip is strong, and he pulls me toward the door.

Behind me, I hear Mr. Ramsey’s voice telling him he’s got this all wrong. Oh. So he’s been home all along. Meanwhile, this strange man keeps tugging me along.

The confusion alone almost paralyzes me. What the hell is going on? Where is he taking me, and why isn’t Mr. Ramsey doing more to save me?

We exit the doorway, and I try to kick him in his shins. "Get your hands off me!" I scream, trying to kick him in his shins and claw at him with the one arm I have free.

My eyes widen in terror as the stranger effortlessly lifts me off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing at all. He’s going to drop me. Oh my god, I’m going to break a bone or something.

"Put me down! You’ll drop me!” I smack against his back and kick my legs in the air, thrashing in a futile attempt to free myself. He doesn't even flinch. Acts like I’m talking to a wall.

My heart races, pounding violently against my chest as panic sets in. He’s strong, and if I have to fight him, chances are I’ll be waging a losing bet. I stop fighting, afraid of falling, petrified of angering him.

"I think you’ve got the wrong person!" I continue, but it’s like he doesn’t hear me.

"Quiet," he barks, his tone menacing and final. He carries me toward a van, throwing me inside with such force that the wind is knocked out of me. The van's door slams shut, trapping me in darkness. He enters up front, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Please," I beg as soon as my breath returns, tears streaming down my face. "Why are you doing this to me? I don’t even know you. There must be some mistake."

"Enough," he growls, not even bothering to look at me. "We're done talking."

The van jerks to life, sending me sprawling across the cold metal floor. My hands scramble for purchase as we speed through the streets, my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. I try to keep track of our route, but it's impossible. There are no windows at the back. The darkness enveloping me swallows any sense of direction, leaving me even more disoriented and scared.

"Where are you taking me?" I demand, my voice cracking with fear. But the stranger remains silent, his presence looming over me like a dark cloud.

"Look, I'm just a college student trying to make ends meet by cleaning houses," I plead, desperation bleeding into my voice. "Please, you have to believe me."

"Save your breath," he snaps. "You'll need it."

I bite back another plea, tears now blurring my vision. My mind races as I try to think of a way out of this nightmare, but all I can focus on is the overwhelming fear that's suffocating me. The stranger doesn't care about my explanations or my tears. He's kidnapped me for a reason, and I'm terrified to find out why.

As the van continues its journey, I can't help but think about all the things I should have done differently. Should I have put up more of a fight? Should I have screamed louder, hoping someone would hear me? But no matter how much I rack my brain, there's nothing I could have done to prevent this. I'm just an ordinary college student caught in the crossfire of god knows what.

I pray that Mr. Ramsey called the cops. Apart from Mr. Ramsey, no one else knows I’ve gone missing. Tears spring to my eyes as I realize that maybe, no one cares enough about me to notice me gone. I have no friends in this world, no family, no one who can truly say they love me.

Desperation courses through me at the thought of what might happen next. Am I going to be murdered? Something worse? Am I in the hands of a psychopath? My only chance out is Mr. Ramsey calling the cops to report what just happened. I pray that he didn’t physically try to stop this man so he could save himself to get me help.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, each one more agonizing than the last. The van finally slows to a stop, and a sliver of light pierces the darkness as the doors are flung open. Blinking against the sudden brightness, I catch a close glimpse of my captor's face. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with grey-blue eyes piercing right through me. There's a mocking twist to his lips that tells me he’s going to be real trouble.

In another life, I’d dare call him hot.

"Get out," he orders, grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. I stumble out of the van, my legs weak and shaky after being cramped for so long.

I take in my surroundings, my heart sinking as I realize I’m nowhere near the city anymore. Instead, we're standing on a gravel driveway that leads to an imposing mansion, its two-floored stone facade casting long shadows across the manicured lawn.

"Is this where you're going to kill me?" I can't help but ask, my voice trembling with genuine fear. He smirks at my question but doesn't respond, instead opting to shove me forward, forcing me toward the house.

"Keep moving," he says gruffly, clearly uninterested in any form of conversation. My mind races, trying to come up with some kind of plan, some way to escape this nightmare.

I look around and see gardens with stone statues sprouting water into small fountains.

And then, I see the men.

All along the boundary wall stand dozens of uniformed men carrying large rifles.

Their stoic expressions send a shiver down my spine, and I realize that this isn't just any kidnapping. This is something much bigger, much more dangerous.

And I have no idea how I got into this mess in the first place.

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