Page 46 of The Bratva's Forced Innocent Bride

There was a soft throw blanket on the chair next to me, and I pulled it over my legs, wiggling my bare toes in the rays of sunshine that were starting to break through the morning fog. What would I be doing if none of this had happened? Probably either scrambling to work or a class, or staring at the delivery app I freelanced for in between study time, hoping to get an order that might mean an extra five or ten bucks.

So, yeah, this was better. But was it what I wanted?

That was tricky, because now that I was somewhat relaxed, I got all upside down again. It was impossible not to remember what Max had said on the plane. And how he’d said it. He was so full of sincerity and pain, as if he was dragging the words up from a deep well, and they weighed a thousand pounds. Was it the truth, or did I just want to believe it?

I shouldn’t want to believe it, and my cynical nature shouldn’t have let me even entertain that he might have been speaking the truth. I was still locked up, wasn’t I?

It was so tempting to lean into it, though. No one had ever made me feel the way Max did when he told me he’d give up his fortune and family and live in my little apartment. That was an even bigger blow to my equilibrium than his heartfelt confession on the plane.

I want all of you, Brooke. Your heart and your soul, since you’ve already got mine.

Shivering, I pulled the blanket up further but didn’t go inside the suite to warm up or change clothes. I was too trapped in the moment, trying to remember every detail to dismantle it and find the lies. All I could do was close my eyes and let the shock of hearing him say he loved me hit my system again. Except for Jenna, no one would have sacrificed much for me, let alone their whole life. Even my nicer foster parents couldn’t be bothered to heat me up a frozen meal a lot of the time.

Pavel stuck his head outside and tried to pretend he wasn’t happy to see me. I didn’t even bother, jumping up to greet him.

“You finally got here!” I said, following him inside since I was covered in goosebumps. The sun was making a valianteffort, but it wasn’t going to be a San Diego kind of day, that was for sure.

“I was helping Dima wrap something up,” he said. “Just got in. You hungry?”

“Starving,” I said, since I’d only picked at dinner last night and ignored breakfast. “Let’s get room service.”

I was thrilled when he dismissed the sour-faced goon who was guarding the door and couldn’t help a smug smile from around his shoulder as I waved goodbye. Not that I should have taken my relief at seeing a familiar face as hope that Pavel would finally cave and see things my way. After Pavel put in the room service order, he pulled out a game console set up near the big TV in the living area.

He scrolled through the options until we agreed on a game, not that it mattered because I was sure to suck at all of them. He let me kill his character a few times in a practice arena and had my turmoil on the backburner at least. I shouldn’t have gotten so chummy with my guard, or any of the people who worked for my jailer, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to make a point of staying enemies with people who were just doing their jobs. I’d had plenty of jobs where I’d had to do things I wasn’t thrilled about, and I liked to think that Pavel and Olivia were like that.

When the meal arrived, I automatically popped up to answer the door.

“Nope, stay put,” he said.

I rolled my eyes at him, snapping out of game mode and into real-life warrior in a blink. “Yeah, I don’t want to sprain my wrist taking a tray from someone.”

As professional as ever, he ignored me. I turned back to the game, practicing with the controller, clicking around on options and seeing what I had in my inventory to possibly beat him. I listened for the sound of Pavel putting the tray down or a cart rolling in since we’d ordered a feast, but instead, I heard an odd grunt and a thud.

It had to be the background noise in the game, so I didn’t turn around, but when Pavel didn’t reappear right away, I got a weird feeling up my spine. Surely, Max’s weeks of paranoia over my safety weren’t actually coming true.

Setting the controller to the side, I twisted to look over the back of the couch to the entrance hall. A scream rose in my throat as I saw someone standing there with a bloody knife in his hand, and it wasn’t Pavel. Before I could get any sound out or make a move of any kind, he was on me, slapping his hand over my mouth and flattening me to the couch.

My arm twisted painfully underneath me, but I kicked as hard and as much as I could with someone the size of a pro football player. His grunt of pain was mild but still satisfying when I got him in the shin, and I aimed at the same spot again. When his clammy hand moved from my mouth, I got out a wisp of a shriek, then he smashed a big piece of tape across my lips, holding down hard, covering my nose with his palm until I began to panic for a breath.

I jerked my knee up, getting him in the soft bits, but it barely made him pause and only pissed him off. Gripping my face with his meaty palm, he yanked it up and slammed it against the arm of the couch. The pain reverberated through my teeth, and I saw blinking fireflies of light at my peripheral, but thankfully the couch was padded so I managed to rally.

And I had a free hand, so I grabbed at his face, trying to scratch his eyes or yank on his hair. He snarled down at me, his olive skin turning red with anger and his eyes flaring with irritation that I was making him work so hard.

He said something I didn’t understand, sending flecks of spittle flying into my eyes. I squeezed them shut and thrashed with every bit of strength I had.

“Knock it off,” he hissed in heavily accented English.

Italian, maybe? My heart sank and I did not knock it off, but slammed my head forward to crack my skull against his. A desperate move that always seemed to work out for people in movies, but it only made him laugh and me dizzy with fresh pain. He flipped me over as I struggled to stay conscious and lucid, and the next thing I knew, my hands were tied together.

Hauling me up by whatever had my hands locked at the small of my back, he tossed me to the floor, knocking the wind out of me. All I could do was lay there gasping like a landed fish as he tied my ankles.

It felt like an eternity fighting with all my strength and fury, but it probably only took him a few seconds to have me hogtied and tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If I’d had any breakfast, I would have thrown up when his shoulder jammed into my stomach as he strode toward the door. My face smacked into his wide back, and my arms strained painfully from their sockets, but I managed to turn my head to the side.

And I wished I hadn’t seen what faced me in the hall. Two more men were wrapping Pavel up in a sheet, a big circle of blood on it.

“No!” I screamed as best I could through the thick tape. No, not Pavel. He was just doing his job, and… he was my friend.

I flopped around, pounding the man who held me as best I could, thrashing like I’d been electrocuted. As professional as Pavel, the three of them barely seemed to notice. The first two made their way down with the sheet-wrapped body, and then all I could see was the floor as the one who held me followed them. The bouncing of his shoulder had me fighting to breathe, and the tape across my mouth wasn’t helping.

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