Page 69 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

"Lev Zolotov," says a distorted voice, aided by a machine of some sort to keep the caller anonymous. "Go to the corner of 5th and Grand. You'll find the women you’re looking for there."

The line goes dead. I stare at the phone in bewilderment.

I motion at Boris and Damien and tell them what just happened.

“What if it’s a trap?” Damien frowns.

“What if it’s not?” Boris adds.

“What other choice do we have?” I say, in acceptance of the situation.

Anoushka and Pippa are not here. We have no other clues. The only option we have is to go to the corner of 5th and Grand.

***

My chest tightens with anticipation, fear a constant flicker in the corner of my mind as our convoy makes its way through the darkened streets. With each turn we take, I can't help but imagine the horrors Pippa and Anoushka might be facing at this very moment.

"Stay sharp," I warn my brothers. "We don't know what we'll find when we get there."

"Lev, just pray for the best," Damien advises, his steady presence a source of comfort in the chaos.

"Hard not to let my imagination run wild," I admit, my mind plagued by thoughts of Pippa's soft curves and Anoushka's feisty spirit being abused by ruthless hands.

"Hey, don't go there," Boris chides gently, understanding the direction my thoughts are taking. "We're almost there. We'll handle whatever comes our way."

As we round the corner, we park the car, and all of us exit our vehicles, guns drawn. I walk a little further and spot the street sign that matches the location provided by our informant. 5th and Grand. Right on the corner. My heart slams against my ribcage, my breaths becoming shallow and rapid.

"Here," I announce, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of Pippa and Anoushka. The street is dimly-lit, shadows casting eerie shapes across the pavement.

“Fan out,” I tell my men. We’re all just splitting up when I notice movement on my right.

I turn, and my knees begin to shake. I go weak and fall to the ground.

For there, emerging from the shadows of an alley, are Pippa and Anoushka. Boris and Damien look at me, fallen to my knees, and then trace my line of vision.

“Jesus!” Boris gasps.

“I’ll be damned,” Damien almost begins to cry.

Our men cheer and whoop. The girls come out into the light, bruised and battered but alive.

Our men check behind them to make sure there are no hidden traps. When all is deemed clear, a relief washes over our crew like a tidal wave, leaving my heart pounding so hard I wonder if I’m having a heart attack.

"Lev!" Pippa calls out, rushing into my arms. Her body trembles against mine, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I knew you'd find us."

She pulls me up to my feet.

"Of course I did," I reply, trying to sound casual despite the tears I’m holding back threatening to choke me. "You didn't think I'd let some lowlife thugs keep you away from me, did you?"

Pippa's laughter is watery but genuine as she buries her face in my chest. "Never," she whispers, and I can feel the weight of her words seeping into my very soul.

"Lev," Anoushka cuts in, her tone serious.

Pippa pulls away. I lunge at Anoushka, grabbing her in my arms and kissing her forehead, over and over again. In true Anoushka fashion, she tires of my sentiments and pulls away.

Then, she hands me an envelope, her own hands trembling slightly. "This was left with us."

With a deep breath, I unfold the envelope. It has Boris, Mikhail and my name on it. We all crowd around it and open it to read the message: "You're welcome. Trust that we'll meet again, soon. Until then, the caller."

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