Page 57 of Stolen By the Bratva

Just as I reached into the fridge for the container of chicken in the far back spot on the shelf, I heard the door open.

“How does?—”

Arms wrapped around me, cutting me off from announcing my thoughts about food. The muscled limbs held me tight, but it felt all wrong. He was wrong. This masked intruder didn’t smell like my husband, all spicy and clean with his familiar musky scent beneath. He wasn’t as tall as my ruggedly fit spouse.

This man was too rough, shoving me against the counter as he wrenched me away from the fridge.

His gloved hand slapped over my mouth, cutting off my scream. Worse, though, was the immediate shove of his other hand. He pushed it under my pants, trying to remove my garments.

“Playing housewife now?” he growled into my ear as he gripped me hard, digging his nails along the upper skin of my thighs.

My pulse skyrocketed with the instant thunder of my heartbeat.

Geoff. I recognized his voice. I recalled that filthy, sinister tone when he’d try to get his way with me. Of all the people to sneak in here and attack me, he was the last one I ever wanted to see or hear of again.

Rage built within me, and I lashed out, wrestling and wiggling to break free. My fight encouraged him to grab my pussy harder. I cried out at the intrusive, painful touch, but that noise was just the reward he was looking for. My agony was music to his sick ears. He chuckled, low and evil, as though my reaction was a perfect present for the sadist he was.

“It’s about time that I got my hands on you,” he taunted.

I bucked back at him, trying to escape the way he pinned me to the counter. He was taller and stronger, and he acted on years of pent-up obsession over me. He would never release me. I was doomed, alone and without a weapon in this place.

I didn’t want to think of how he’d gotten in here. Alek said it was guarded. I saw the cameras and patrolmen on the way here. It was a protected fortress, but still, Geoff had gotten in.

If he’d gone to that much trouble to reach me, he wouldn’t quit for anything.

Like hell, I’ll let him have his way with me!

Desperate and panicked, I bit down hard on his gloved hand over my mouth, triumphant when my teeth cut through the leather and pierced his skin.

“You bitch!” He lowered his hand and shook it, then yanked off his mask. “It’s me. Don’t fucking bite me.”

“I know who you are,” I shot back. As if recognizing that he was one of my father’s men would make me behave. Knowing he was associated with my father made me more livid, not the opposite.

He gripped my hair, yanking my head back as he swore and shoved faster at my pants. “Then you know that you'd better listen good. Give me those papers.”

His breath came out in rushed exhales as he struggled to keep me captive and lower his pants.

Papers? I didn’t understand.

“I need that information your husband”—he snarled the word with disgust—“was given at your fucking wedding. Where is it?”

The folded papers? I’d barely realized what they were when Maxim handed them to Alek. I spotted those lines of code, but I’d been stuck in panic mode for killing Andrey. I hadn’t considered them again, not until Geoff spoke now.

I didn’t want to know how he could be aware of them. Spies and espionage were commonplace in our world. Anything could be tracked or trailed. Maybe that man Alek sent back to Pavel had spoken too soon or somewhere that Kastava soldiers could have listened in. There were many ways that Geoff or my father’s men could have learned about Maxim giving Alek secretive intel. All that mattered now was that Geoff did know, and he was planning to use me to gain that information for himself.

I bucked and twisted, fighting him until my last breath. If he dared to touch what wasn’t his, if he tried to fit where only Alek belonged…

No. I screamed, clawing to get free.

“I need that intel, bitch. Where is it?”

“Fuck those papers! And fuck you!” A hard elbow jab to his side almost won me freedom, but he resisted with a grunt and held me tighter. My scalp burned with the tighter clench of his fingers in my hair, and tears streaked from my eyes.

“No, I’ll fuck you, bitch. Your father should have given you to me. Even if you’re damaged goods now, you can serve me. Serve your Family and do your duty. You’ll give me those papers right after I fuck this pussy.”

I set my teeth together so hard that my jaw strained from the effort. Ugly, dark fury filled me at the reminder that according to him, to my father, to all the men in the world, I would always be something to use. To dispose of.

“I won’t be a spy.” I slapped my hand out, gripping the closest thing on the counter as he tried to spread my legs apart.

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