Page 30 of Forced Bratva Prisoner

But maybe, just for tonight, I might enjoy myself for a while.

I start joining in the conversation, and no one throws nasty comments at me or tells me I’m an idiot for just sharing my thoughts.

This warm family environment is so new to me that it has me thinking about the stark contract between my father and these people.

Then I start to feel sick.

What would my father do to get me back?

If he stormed in here now, what would he do to Chiara’s two little babies?

He wouldn’t spare a moment’s thought before tearing them apart just like he has done to so many other families.

I bite at my lower lip, feeling scared for their lives. I don’t think Leon has any idea what he has invited into his own life and the lives of the people he seems to love.

Chapter 9 - Leon

Over the next few weeks, I start to put my plan in motion. I go out of my way to disrupt Sasha’s peace and quiet and make her life as difficult as possible. My plan was to torture her and make her life miserable, so that is what I try to do.

The first thing I take enjoyment from, seeing as she has tried to escape a few times, is to leave the house and make it seem like I’ve left an easy getaway for her.

Of course she jumps at the opportunity and makes a run for it, only to find me waiting for her at the last moment. The look of disappointment in her eyes is really satisfying.

After the third time of playing that trick on her, she catches on.

I pretend to leave the house one morning but wait just outside the front door. I hear her coming down the stairs, making her way towards the exit. Her footsteps stop just short of the doorway, though, and I hold my breath, waiting for her to bolt through it so that I can grab her.

But she doesn’t.

After what seems like far too long, I decide something must have changed and peek around the door.

As I do, she throws a cup full of water in my face.

“Oops. So sorry. I thought you had left.” She smirks as I stand dripping wet in the doorway.

“Are you kidding?” I snap.

“Not at all. I thought you had left, and someone was trying to break in,” she says innocently.

“And you threw water at an intruder?”

“Yep.” She shrugs. “It’s all about the element of surprise. Were you surprised?”

I hardly know what to say. No one has ever thrown water in my face before. I snarl and push past her to go and change. But when I get to my bedroom door, I find it locked.

What the fuck is going on.

I march back downstairs in my wet shirt.

“Sasha. Why is my bedroom door locked?”

“I have no idea. Did you try wiggling the handle?” she asks.

“Did I wiggle—what the fuck?”

She grins and turns her attention back to her magazine.

I march to my office, where I know I have a spare shirt hanging up and get changed in there. I need to try something different now that she’s caught onto the escape sabotage routine.

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