Page 53 of The Bratva's Forced Innocent Bride

Huddling in a spot where I wouldn’t immediately be visible to anyone coming in, I gripped the knife in my hand so I’d be ready if it opened. When it opened, because of course it was only a matter of time, but I couldn’t let myself think about that without completely going to pieces.

Instead, I thought about Max. No matter what, I couldn’t seem to keep him out of my mind. All the little, sweet things he did came rushing forward, instead of the anger I had clung to the way I held onto this little knife. I’d been so damn furious at him so many times, but he’d put up with it all.

Was it really him I was so pissed off at, or the way he made me feel with only the crooked tilt of his sarcastic smile to reveal his dimples? God, even through the deep layers of my terror, I still felt warm when I envisioned that smile. The wayhe could hold himself back when I was about to climb out of my skin if he didn’t keep touching me. That had about killed me until I realized it was all an act. He wanted me every bit as much as I ever wanted him, but he was giving me the choice. All while acting like a prison guard and a tyrant, he was giving me the choice.

I practically made him bend over backward, too. He didn’t have to make his best guard don swim trunks and pace along the shore while I swam in the waves. I could have just as easily been confined to the house.

Oh God, Pavel. I’d gotten Pavel killed. How long had he and Max known one another? It was easy to see he trusted my guard like one of his brothers, and he was sure to be devastated when he found out. That broke my spirit more than the pain I felt about losing my new friend.

No, I couldn’t go down that road right now, not when I’d be fighting for my life soon. I tried to envision jumping up and sinking the knife into the first person who walked into the room next. I’d never done something like that before. Where to aim, how hard to thrust? My hands started shaking, and I leaned against the wall, unable to hold my alert crouch any longer.

Settling myself into a more comfortable position, just to rest my legs, I set the knife down and put my hands over my face, as if not seeing anything would make it all go away. It was unproductive, but thinking about Max was the only thing keeping me from screaming.

He cooked all those dinners for me, slowly learning my favorites without even asking. He didn’t have to order his assistant to go and buy me clothes she thought I’d like and set up a boutique in the house so I wouldn’t have to wear the samething all the time. I could have just as easily been stuck in the same few outfits for the duration of my sentence.

How I’d hated being a prisoner, but was I really? It didn’t seem so now that I actually was one. Max had told me and told me, over and over, how dangerous Luca was. It wasn’t that I didn't believe him. I saw for myself what the man was capable of. I just didn’t understand the depths of his depravity the way Max did. Now I could see why he kept me hidden away, going so far as to move away from most of his family and his beloved diner to try to throw Luca off my trail.

And then I’d made such a fuss about going to San Francisco that he finally caved, against his better judgment. All to make me happy. And was I? I sure didn’t act like it.

That’s what he’d been doing all along. Trying to make me happy. From our first “date” at the pier, where he patiently let me take a nap so I wouldn’t be exhausted when he showed me his diner for the first time. He’d been so adorably proud, and he had every right to be. The place was amazing. That whole day had been a dream, as I glowed under his flirtatious compliments and felt so pretty in the new dress he insisted on buying so I didn’t feel out of place in my jeans.

I had honestly enjoyed his company and had been working up to having a crush on him despite thinking he could never be serious about someone like me. But he was serious, all right. And I threw those feelings back in his face. Worse, I’d ignored them.

I got it now, probably much too late. He wasn’t just protecting me. He cared to the point he overturned his whole damn life to keep me close. He didn’t know it was utter confusion that had made me clam up, and the idea he mightthink I had rejected his love made me press my hands to my chest to keep my heart from aching.

The door handle clicked next to me, and I was startled. I grabbed the knife and hurriedly got into position as I waited for it to swing open. My hands were sweaty and shaking but I somehow miraculously got my breathing under control with one thought. See Max again.

I prayed it wasn’t Luca, and just the guards. Better yet, one guard. I slowly rose as a shadow moved from the dimly lit hall outside, and the door opened further. There was a pause, and I held my breath. He was looking for me on the couch, but I wasn’t there.

Rethinking my plan of attack, it would have been better to pretend I was unconscious and stab him when he leaned over me, but it was too late now.

Luca slammed the rest of the way into the room, whirling toward me with a look of utter glee on his face. That horrible night in his apartment all came rushing back to me like angry phantoms. Even through the drug haze, I remembered him saying it would be more fun for him when I could fight back.

Filled with a hatred I didn’t think possible, I lunged at him with the knife held high. The blade skated across his shoulder, ripping his shirt. If it drew blood, he didn’t seem to feel it, and he easily wrenched the knife out of my hand to toss it toward the couch.

“That’ll come later,” he promised, licking his lips.

Seriously, how did I ever think he was handsome? He was vile, disgusting, and I shrank away from him as he moved slowly toward me. I was trapped in a corner now, between the open door and the television. Keeping my eyes on Luca, I reached for the television and brought it down with a crash. As soon ashis glance shifted, I made a break for the door. Outside of the dungeon was a concrete block hallway and a set of stairs leading to another closed door at the top.

If it wasn’t locked…

I could taste my freedom. I was fast and strong and already halfway up the steps. Reaching for the door handle, only a few feet away, I felt a rough hand lock around my ankle, and I came crashing to the floor. Hard concrete slammed into my palms, saving my face from taking the brunt of the fall. The next thing I knew, I was being carried back into the nightmare room.

Kicking with every last bit of strength I had, I managed to claw at that famous face, leaving a long scratch down his cheek. I grabbed onto a handful of hair and ripped, but nothing seemed to register. Was he even human?

Tossing me onto the couch hard enough to make my teeth rattle, he spun around to slam the door shut, engaging the electronic lock. Turning back to me, he had a grin on his face that could have easily been a Halloween mask with bared teeth and crazed eyes.

“This is going to be even better than I imagined,” he said, advancing. “Why did you waste so much valuable time that we could have been together?”

I shook my head, clamping my lips together to keep from justifying his rants with a reply. His horrible smile slipped a little at the mere shake of my head.

“Come on now, don’t be stubborn. Or too stubborn, anyway,” he said, his teasing tone making my skin crawl. “I could show you the world, you know. Even make you famous if that’s what you want. All you have to do is spend some nice, quality time down here with me in return. You might even like it.”

“Never,” I hissed, giving up on silence just to get him to shut the hell up for a second. “There’s nothing you could ever give me that would make me choose to be here.”

He laughed, throwing back his head, before pinning me with a glare. “Of course. Because you chose Max. It’s always Fokin…” He paced in front of me, going off on a Shakespearean-level tangent about Max that I tuned out while I tried to think of ways to get past him and grab another knife. I wouldn’t miss this time.

It was clear he had a deep-seated jealousy of Max that he’d never been able to get over. A need to destroy him, like I’d wanted to do not so long ago. Now all I wanted was one more minute with him before this ranting demon finished me off. Because I knew that Luca wasn’t going to let me out of here alive. Killing me after making me suffer was the only way he could win against Max.

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