Page 17 of Virgin Bratva Prisoner

A pair of jeans, a crop top, a white hoodie and some sneakers—and fresh underwear.Lace. He’s got a fucking cheek buying me lace underwear.

I sigh and flick the shower on.

Kidnapped or not—I need a hot shower. I still smell smokey from that club and I feel gross. I think I still have grass in my hair from my failed attempt at escaping last night.

Oh my word.

Last night.

Images flash through my mind of him lying on top of me—my legs spread around him and his hand over my mouth.

Fuck—it was so kinky—dammit—I hate the fact that I was so turned on by it then and just the thought of it now is making me feel all hot and bothered again.

A shower will clear my mind, wake me up and hopefully give me some fresh perspective on how to handle this situation.

The shampoo and conditioner in the shower are definitely a girls' brand. I can see the bottle is new so it makes sense that he bought this for me.

It’s odd—to be kidnapped by someone who is thoughtful.

The hot water runs over my skin and I instantly feel better.

I stand under the running water, soaping myself, washing my hair, and letting it massage the tension from my muscles.

My guess is that Oleg will already have contacted my brothers and started negotiations. That means that my brothers will already be working to get me home.

All I want to do is get home.

It’s all that matters to me right now.

I dry off, sweep my damp hair up into a bun on top of my head, and get dressed. Oleg has provided everything I need in the bathroom—so when I am done, I feel so much better. Which is a relief.

I peak out of the bedroom door. Looking up and down the passage I find no one there.

Maybe I can try to escape again. Last night it was dark and I was tired and panicked. This morning might be much easier.

I want to get to my brothers and warn them about what the Dubrovs are really like—what they are capable of. I know my brothers have been causing some trouble around the city—making some noise—but I don’t think they fully understand who they are up against.

I remember there being a big sun room at the end of the passage upstairs here. I run as quietly as possible towards it.

There was a big balcony outside it, and maybe if I can get onto the balcony, I can make it down into the garden.

I push against the sunroom doors—but they are locked. Staring through them into the garden below, my heart sinks.

There are so many security guards walking around outside.

It’s like he’s prepared for the absolute worst-case scenario. Does he think the entire army is going to come and rescue me—because it looks like that’s the kind of defense he’s got set up here.

“Fuck,” I mutter angrily.

There is no way in hell that I am going to be able to get off the property without being stopped.

I have to wait this out.

My brothers will strike a bargain—they will do whatever it takes to get me home. My family looks after each other. I know I haven’t been fair to them—keeping my secrets from them—but when it comes down to it, we would all do anything for each other.

They will negotiate a deal quickly to get me home as soon as possible. Maybe by this evening, I’ll be safely back with them.

I bite at my lower lip as I walk downstairs towards the kitchen.

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