Page 79 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

But still. I can’t let her go. I can’t just agree to that.

“Look, guys, I can’t—"

“What the fuck do you meanyou can’t?There is nochoicehere, Alex, we didn’t come here to negotiate. We didn’t even come here to ask nicely. We came here to fetch her. All you have to do is let her go. We will sort out the rest. We’ll make sure she gets home safe without anyone knowing where she was this whole time.”

“No,” I say sternly. “She can’t leave yet.”

I just can’t. I can’t let her go. I am not ready for that. I don’t know if I ever will be, but today is definitely not the day.

Oleg growls, a low, angry sound. His brows knotted tightly and his jaw muscles flexing as he glares at me.

“For fuck's sake, man, don’t you get it? If Giorgio thinks that Yefim and Leon knew all along that you had her, he’ll try and kill them. This is so much more serious than you seem to want to admit.”

“They can figure it out. I mean, eventually the whole thing will blow over. He’ll assume…" He’ll assume she’s dead. I don’t want that. But I also can’t face the idea of letting her go home.

“He’ll assume someone has killed her, Alex. Don’t be a fucking asshole. Let her go.”

“Give me another month,” I say.

“A month? Are you fucking insane?”

“A week.” I am practically begging.

“Like I said. We aren’t here to negotiate. We are here to fetch her.”

I shake my head and walk over to the bar. It’s really early to be drinking, but this conversation is so unwelcome I need to block out the anxiety it’s causing me.

I need a moment to think. My head is spinning, and I can hardly get my words together.

Oleg is staring at me with so much anger I can see the veins on his temple popping out. Red and angry. He looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

Anya is standing near the patio door, fidgeting, shifting her weight from side to side.

“Alex,” Oleg says quietly.

“Just give me a fucking second. Stop talking,” I spit the words out at him, trying to keep my voice down, because the last thing I need is for Clara to come downstairs now and hear all of this.

I down a shot of vodka, then another. My hands are shaking slightly.

I can’t lose her.

The clear liquid feels sharp, like blades moving down my throat. It distracts me and pushes away the agitation for a moment.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

What is the right thing to do here?

“Alex,” Oleg’s voice is filled with threat and warning.

Fuck the right thing. She ismine.

She belongs to me.

Her asshole uncle never even saw her for the incredible person she is. He never bothered to get to know the real her. How beautiful she is. How playful and full of life.

I won’t let her go back there.

She belongs here with me.

---