Page 24 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

Yes! I’ve outsmarted them.That’s what I reasoned in a microsecond of delusion. It didn’t matter that Ruslan backed off, handing me over to his men once I told him he was the father of a baby conceived from a one-night stand. I couldn’t be sure what his plans were once his men got hold of me, so in my head, if I made one last attempt to escape, then I would give it all I had. Immediately one of the men thwarted my silly plan, shoving a hard piece of cold metal into the small of my back, the other one wrenching the van door open, only to give me a hard boost into the van.

“Get in the fucking van, before I shoot you in the back,” one of the captors barked, while the other one tied my hands with a dirty thick rope to the side panel of the van. Gritty tears of frustration trickled down my face as I shook my head violently, trying to wrench my hands free with no luck.

“You’re not getting the files!” I yelled to no reply. The men entered the front talking amongst themselves in Russian as the van screeched, the sheer force of acceleration, jerking my headaround on a swivel. My head smacked violently against the van panel, eliciting a groan to escape as the motion sickness kicked in.

“We are getting those files,” one of the captors from the passenger side declared, staring back at me through the gap in the seats. “One way or another. Ruslan’s got sweet, sweet plans for you,” the man taunted with an ugly sneer. His face might not have been familiar, but his voice was.

Where had I seen him before? If only I could remember.

The man who’d done most of the talking, chuckled darkly from the driver seat, his beady eyes summoning mine in the mirror. “Careful back there, Fiona Anderson, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He thumped the man beside him with a wink. “Eh?”

“Exactly. She doesn’t have his child,” one of them scoffed to the pale guy, whose arms were intensely covered in even more tattoos than Ruslan.

“She may well be bluffing, and he’s going to kill her anyway when he finds out, she’s a fucking liar,” the main guy teased with a deceptive smile, baring his teeth like a wolf in the mirror.

I licked my lips, scowling back at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how shit-scared I was. As the van swayed, and exhaustion set in my bones, I reluctantly surrendered, thinking the best thing to do was to survive, gather my strength and bide my time.

“I’m not lying about anything,” I eventually replied wearily, starting to fade.

Think of your baby. You can’t keep arguing with them. Sleep’s calling.I didn’t bother figuring out where we weredriving to. It would prove pointless anyway, because both sides of the back panels were covered, and the men had slid a panel of division between us. I lay in complete darkness and suffocating humidity in the back of some musty, random van. It wasn’t until what felt like hours later with all my muscles aching that I realized we’d arrived at our destination.

Fuck. What are they going to do to me? How am I going to get out of this?The van door slid open forcibly, my eyes aching from the contrast of intense flooding daylight streaming in. Peeling my tongue down from the roof of my mouth, I needed water—desperately.

One of the men hauled me out, his fingers digging deep into the side of my arm.

“Welcome, Fiona. Let’s see how long you last,” the main guy chuckled, teasing me.

Stupid. You’re fucking stupid. You didn’t bother to put a blindfold on me. Where’s Ruslan?Scattered thoughts occupied my brain as I attempted a quick scan of my location. All I knew was that we’d entered a sprawling estate, with multiple floors, but when I looked at the house, all I experienced were shivers rolling down my spine. I took note of the cameras lodged in every corner of the estate’s eaves, and the sound of the gardener on his motorized lawnmower. I wondered if he understood I’d just been kidnapped by Ruslan.

Maybe I can get his attention, and he’ll help me get out of this place.A small window of hope gave me the false sense of an escape plan, but I couldn’t let my captors know. The sky was clouded over to the perfect gloomy shade of gray, the threat of rain—imminent, but the light still shining outside. I tried to absorb as much of my surroundings as possible, but didn’t getfar as Ruslan stepped out from his fancy sports car with a giant grin on his face.

“Good afternoon, Fiona. I trust you enjoyed the ride.” He smirked, his jaw ticking while butterflies skittered around in my stomach as his men manhandled me forward towards the estate entry. It took a second to untangle the stream of words riding on the tip of my tongue, but eventually, I shook them loose.

“Let me go, you bastard!”I croaked out, my hair falling in my face.

Ruslan proceeded to park himself against his luxury vehicle with his arms and legs crossed, a smug expression camped on the mouth that had once brought me immense pleasure. His designer sunglasses shielded his soulless eyes, and for that I was grateful.

It was almost as if kidnapping me was similar to taking a nonchalant stroll in the park for the day. He shook his head back and forth.

“Nope. You’re my prized possession now,” he retorted, his teeth gleaming. “My dearest Fiona, I have to make sure you’re telling the truth.” He nodded to his men. “Take her to the spare guest suite. He paused for a second, raising his sunglasses to glare directly at me. “And get her some water.” He winked, leading the way to entering the house. I frowned at the hint of kindness displayed from the brute.

Okay, maybe he won’t kill me,I reasoned, dipping into delusion. This time, the Bratva men didn’t slip, grasping my arms tightly and dragging me over the cold marble tiles to my guest suite, and locking me in.

“Night, night, Fiona. Sleep tight,” one of Ruslan’s main men uttered with a dirty wink. “Don’t bother trying to escape. There are guards outside of your room.”

From one of the bay windows, I noticed the huge fountain parked outside in the pristine green gardens. With my heart pounding and my hands on the window, I watched the gardener mowing large strips of grass, doing his job. I opened the window, vying to get his attention, flagging him down with urgent waves, but it was useless. He showed me through his actions that he was loyal to the Bratva payroll. His eyes met mine briefly, but he simply went back to his job as if he hadn’t seen me. I cried, sprawled out on the bed, worried about my fate. What’s worse is I had access to the time— the wall clock chiming loudly, almost like a forced countdown to the end of my life.

At 5:00 p.m. is when I glimpse the next possibility of escape. A loud rap of knuckles at the door sits me upright, my stomach muscles bundled together in a tight mass of knots.

Shit. Is it Ruslan?But as the door swings open, I see it’s not Ruslan, but one of his housekeeping staff with dinner.

This is my chance.I take note of the narrow pathway past her trolley into the open corridor, but I can’t get past the getaway thought because two bulky Bratva men are pacing in front of the door, guarding it with pistols.

I’m fucking trapped. Shit.

“Dinner, ma’am,” the timid woman greets as I blink rapidly. As far as my girlfriends and I are concerned, if you blink twice, that’s enough of a signal to let bystanders know you’re in trouble. Unfortunately, this woman misses the universal “help” signal. Nothing comes of me winking except for sore eyes, and a confused expression lining the older woman’s face.

“Thank you,” I reply humbly, taking a second to squeeze her pinkie finger, pleading in need,silently.Her eyes finally link with mine as I mouth the wordhelpas she wheels the food further inside the suite.

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