Page 51 of Captured By the Bratva

Kirill’s jaw tightens. “Drugs, illegal arms deals, you name it. It’s not a place you should be, but it’s where Joe was seen.”

I feel a wave of nervousness wash over me. Caleb reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder before Kirill can react. “Don’t worry, Violet.”

I can see the annoyance flash in Kirill’s eyes as he catches sight of Caleb’s gesture in the rearview mirror. Caleb looks almost smug, his grip on my shoulder firm and protective. Kirill’s lips press into a thin line, but he says nothing, clearly displeased but accepting my reassurance from Caleb.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Thanks, Caleb.”

Kirill’s fingers drum impatiently on the steering wheel. His focus shifts between the road and the rearview mirror, his irritation palpable. The tension is thick, but I’m grateful for Caleb’s presence, even if it does seem to bother Kirill.

Just then, a car swerves out of its lane, nearly bumping into us. Kirill’s reflexes are sharp, and he jerks the wheel to avoid a collision, cursing under his breath. “Watch where you’re going, you idiot!” he yells out the window, his voice a mix of anger and frustration.

My heart races, the near-miss adding to my already heightened anxiety. Caleb chuckles darkly from the back seat. “Nice driving, Kirill. You sure you’ve got this under control?”

Kirill’s eyes flash with rage, and he tightens his grip on the wheel. “Shut the fuck up, Caleb! I don’t need your commentary.”

“Just saying,” Caleb replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I place a hand on Kirill’s arm, trying to calm him. “Let’s just focus on getting there safely, okay?”

Kirill takes a deep breath, his eyes still burning with anger but his focus returning to the road. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Kirill’s frustration simmers just beneath the surface as he navigates the car through the city streets, but he pushes it aside, reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Dimitri,” he announces, pressing a few buttons on the steering wheel to connect the call via Bluetooth.

The phone rings a few times before Dimitri’s face appears on the dashboard screen in a video call. The background is chaotic, with the sounds of male voices and the occasional barked order filling the air.

“Dimitri, what’s the status?” Kirill asks, his voice tense but controlled.

Dimitri’s image is slightly blurry, but the urgency in his expression is clear. “We’re on our way to the location now. Some of the men are already there, securing the perimeter.”

Kirill’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Anything unusual? What’s the vibe?”

Dimitri hesitates, glancing over his shoulder before speaking. “Something feels off, Kirill. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s an air of tension that’s different than usual. We won’t know more until we’re inside.”

I feel a chill run down my spine at his words. Caleb, who had been muttering sarcastic comments earlier, goes silent, his face losing some of its color. My own resolve starts to waver, mingling with a growing sense of concern.

“What did Dimitri mean by ‘off’?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I look at Kirill, hoping for some reassurance.

Kirill’s jaw sets, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know. Dimitri has good instincts. We need to be prepared for anything.”

Dimitri nods from the screen, his face serious. “We’re going in with caution. Stay sharp, Kirill. I’ll see you at the scene.” With that, the call ends, and the car’s interior is filled with a heavy silence once more.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my fingers nervously playing with the hem of my dress. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come along. I don’t want to be a liability.”

Kirill reaches over and places a reassuring hand on my knee. “Don’t say that. I don’t like that you’re here, but you are not a liability.”

I nod, my resolve returning, but I can feel the doubt lingering in my eyes. I’m trying to be brave, but the unknown is daunting, and Dimitri’s cryptic warning hasn’t helped.

As we drive deeper into the industrial district, the buildings grow more dilapidated, and the streets become quieter, more ominous. The darkened windows of abandoned factories and warehouses loom like silent sentinels, watching our every move. The unease in the air thickens, pressing down on my chest.

Finally, Kirill slows the car and parks a bit away from the warehouse where Joe was last seen. He turns to face us, his expression deadly serious. “We’re here. Everyone ready?”

Caleb nods, expression impossible to decipher. Maybe it’s pain, but he looks uneasy.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. “Ready,” I say, my voice steady despite the anxiety swirling within me.

Kirill’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. “Stay close to me, both of you. No heroics, remember?”

We exit the car, the cold night air wrapping around us like a shroud. The industrial estate is eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant hum of machinery and the occasional shout from Kirill’s men. The warehouse looms ahead, its windows dark and foreboding.

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