Page 36 of Knocked Up by the Bratva

Oleg stands nearby, watching, but I can tell he’s concerned. He’s seen me like this before—when I get too wrapped up in something, too intense. This is different. This is personal.

Chiara swallows hard, the fear starting to seep into her eyes. “Alright, fine,” she hisses, her bravado cracking. “I know where she is.”

I don’t let up. “That’s a start, but not good enough. I need everything. Her schedule, her contacts, her fucking phone number. You’ve been in contact with her, haven’t you?”

She hesitates for a split second, and I know I’ve hit the mark. “Yes,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve been helping her.”

I grab her by the chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Why?”

“She’s scared of you,” Chiara snaps, her defiance returning. “She’s running because she knows what you are, what you’re capable of.”

“Tell me everything, and you might make it out of this unscathed.”

Chiara laughs bitterly. “You’ll have to force it out of me. I’ve told you too much already.”

My hands flex, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to knock her lights out. “You did a stupid thing, hiding her from me.” I’m not done yet. I close the distance between me and Chiara again, grabbing her by the collar of her jacket. “You’re going to tell me everything about Jennifer’s life. Every single detail.”

I stare her down, weighing my options. The rage boiling inside me is overwhelming, but I need her alive—at least for now. She’s the key to finding Jennifer, to getting the answers I need.

I shove Chiara toward Oleg. “Take her to the car,” I order, my voice cold and detached.

Oleg hesitates for a moment, glancing at me with concern. “Timur, you’re pushing it.”

I shoot him a warning look. “Do your job.”

***

Hours later I sit at my desk, wiping the last trace of blood from my hands with a cloth. The crimson stains are almost symbolic now, a permanent mark of what I’ve become—and ofwhat I’m willing to do. The room smells of antiseptic and iron, the remnants of tonight’s work hanging thick in the air.

Chiara broke. It took longer than I expected, but she gave me everything I needed to know about Jennifer. Her new name and identity, her work-from-home job, her daily schedule, even where she shops. Every little detail that will make her easy to find.

I toss the cloth aside and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment. My thoughts drift to Jennifer, the woman who thought she could outrun me, who thought she could live a life outside of my control.

I smile bitterly. She doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does.

The thrill of the hunt has always been something I’ve savored, but this time, there’s an edge to it. It’s personal. Jennifer didn’t just run away—she disappeared without a trace, without a word. She chose to betray me, and that’s a debt that needs to be paid.

My phone buzzes on the desk, dragging me back from my thoughts. It’s a message from Oleg, confirming that Chiara is locked up. Safe for now. I don’t trust her entirely—there’s something she’s still holding back, something deeper. Every time I pressed her, she hesitated, her eyes darting away like she was calculating the exact amount of truth to give me without giving it all.

I clench my jaw, staring down at my phone screen. What could she possibly still be hiding?

Jennifer’s schedule is perfect. Her movements are routine, predictable. There’s no security around her. No signs of anyone protecting her. She’s living a simple life, working at some local place. The more I read about her, the more it pisses me off.

She really thought she could escape me.

My fingers tap rhythmically against the desk as I consider my next move. There’s nothing stopping me from going after her right now. I could take her tonight, pull her right out of whatever peaceful life she’s built for herself. That’s too easy. Too quick. No, I want her to feel the weight of her betrayal first. I want her to know that running was a mistake, one she’ll regret for the rest of her life.

Still, Chiara’s hesitation bothers me. I trust my instincts, and right now, they’re telling me that she hasn’t given me everything. There’s a piece of the puzzle missing.

I stand up, pacing the room. What could Chiara possibly still be holding back?

I’ve broken her, shattered any illusion of resistance she had left. Yet, the way she looked at me during that final moment, just before she gave up Jennifer’s details… it was like she knew something that I didn’t.

I stop pacing, leaning against the edge of my desk as I think it over. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Chiara’s just trying to play games. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s protecting something more valuable than Jennifer’s location.

My chest tightens at the thought. What could possibly be more important than Jennifer herself?

I can’t shake the feeling. It gnaws at me, deep and insistent, like an itch I can’t scratch. There’s something more, and I need to find out what it is.

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