Page 18 of Stolen By the Bratva

“Yeah.” Andrey stepped back, striding out of the room. Once his footsteps sounded away, the click of the door shutting followed.

I breathed in deeper, straining to get back to that neutral blank mask I had to rely on. I wouldn’t be able to get through this if I didn’t force my mind and heart to remain numb.

These few moments alone would be my last. Because as soon as I left this room?—

A footstep sounded on the floor.

Fuck.

Then another.

Geoff. He hadn’t left the room when Andrey had.

I spun around, facing him with a stern glower. It was the catalyst he needed to rush at me, his face contorted with that same twisted scowl of lust and impatience Andrey wore.

“No. Geoff, no!”

He caught me, slamming me against the wall harder than Andrey just had.

“Don’t. Geoff, no!”

“Fucking Valkov.” The sharp hiss of his zipper being undone cut through the air, and I wrestled against him to get free. “He’s got no right.”

Through the panic, fury rose. Geoff wasn’t talking about Andrey trying to rape me before the wedding. He was only mad that I was being taken from him. From home. Ever since I reached puberty, he’d tried to get in my pants, and with a last-ditch effort, he acted on his obsession now.

“A man within the ranks of the Kastava should claim your pussy. Not a motherfucking Valkov.”

He was faster, maybe more frantic as he shoved my dress up. More tears rent the air, and I sucked in a sob, replacing it with a growl. “No, Geoff!” Twisting and wriggling, I struggled to break away. As soon as cooler air touched the backs of my thighs, I knew it would be over.

“Stop this!” A woman had rushed into the room, and between my fight to slip out of Geoff’s hold and this newcomer pulling him back, she saved me.

Rosamund was there, scowling at Geoff and pushing him further back. “You stop this!”

“Fucking whore!” He slapped her, righting his clothes as he glared at her, then me. “You’ll pay for that. I’ll fucking make you pay for that.”

She ignored him, helping me get my dress right. “I bet you will. Get out! Just go! You want the Valkovs to call war on us for this?” She gestured at me. “Taking her virginity at the wedding? You’re insane. Get out!”

Fierce with her words, she got him moving. He cursed and muttered dark promises as he stormed out. Once the door shut, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding after my shouts.

I righted myself, smoothing my gown back down and checking in the mirror that I didn’t look as disheveled as I felt. When I felt sure that I appeared the same as I had before those two men barged in, I exhaled a longer, shakier breath and glanced at her.

The makeup hid her bruises well. She looked… normal. Pissed off and ordinary. Gazing at me with an unreadable smirk, she shook her head.

“What?”

“You’re…” She huffed a laugh. “Never mind.”

“I’m doomed? I’m fucked? Tell me something I don’t know.”

She curled her lip at me, helping me with my train to get me out of the room. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” I shot back just as bitterly.

“And good luck,” she sassed. “You’ll need every bit of it you can get later with Andrey.”

And would you believe it? My husband doesn’t think luck is real.

Mine was running out. So was my time. Sweat beaded on the small of my back with every step I took down the aisle. It wasn’t the bridal march playing overhead, but an ominous tune of foreboding as I approached the altar. Over and over, I flirted with the daydream of just running, picking up my dress and sprinting for the exit. I could see it in my mind. Just bolting and giving up on my duty.

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