Page 12 of Kidnapped Bratva Virgin

Both the guards are still vacant from their posts, but I can’t risk milling around, shimmying back up the pillar, my shoes having enough grip on them to climb I find. Puffing, exhausted, and terrified, I jump back onto the balcony and head back inside.

But I’m too late.Dimitri’s already in front of me with his arms crossed. I stare back at his muscular arms, now sorry that I tried to escape. My eyes travel over his honed legs, which are so muscular I can make out the shape of them through his pants. The pants are sticking to him, and I understand why, but how can I be terrified and attracted at the same time? Maybe this is what it’s like to experience Stockholm Syndrome. As my eyes quickly reach their destination, the predator is smiling, his teeth shining back at me.

“So is there a reason you were out on the balcony. Did you think you would make a decision outside, doll?” Dimitri asks, taking one step closer, invading my space. All my muscles clench up, but I don’t want him to see my fear.

“No, but I went out for some fresh air. It’s stuffy inside here,” I reply stiffly, taking a step back in retreat. Dimitri snarls, the icy blue of his eyes increasing as he snatches me up around the throat, cutting off my air supply as my back slams up against the wall. Seeing stars, I suck in what strands of breath I can gather, my eyes watering.

“You’re a shit liar, Ms. Knight. I fucking saw you on the camera. Surprise.” He cackles, his head coming closer to my face, his dirty blond locks dropping in my eyes. Lightheaded, and fearing for my life don’t exactly go together.

“My throat,” I squeeze out, tilting my head so I can get more air in.

“What about it?” he asks gruffly, his eyes blazing with intensity.

Tapping my throat, I demonstrate for him to let go of it so I can breathe again. Slowly he releases my throat, my feet dropping back to the floor as I inhale severely, gasping for air.

My nose is running, but as it drips, I notice the red blood droplet on the white carpet. Dimitri frowns deeply, tilting my chin up to meet his cutthroat gaze. “Your nose is bleeding,” he says matter-of-factly, but I can’t process anything the hulk of a man is saying as I feel myself slipping, slipping into another zone. Holding my eyes open is getting too hard, and my throat hurts.

Shit. I can’t hold on anymore.

Chapter Eight - Dimitri

It was an impulse decision to stamp the lit end of my cigar into her arm, and now that she’s fainted in my arms, there’s a burdened part of me that feels apologetic about it. Slumped in my arms, I stare down at the dried blood under her nose.

What the fuck is she doing? Ever since Ava Knight has come into my life, she’s thrown me off in ways I didn’t expect. Dragging her towards the door of the suite, the guard looks down at me stumped by what he’s looking at.

“Don’t just fucking stand there, go get the doctor!” I bark, not planning on breaking a sweat. By now she has to know who I am. I told her my first name, but Ava’s smarter than I’ve wanted her to be already. “You are inconvenient. Sexy, but inconvenient,” I murmur under my breath, staring at the holes I left in her arm. It’s nothing. I’ve done worse on many more occasions.

Dragging Ava back inside, I lay her on the bed, waiting for the doctor to come, dipping into the bathroom to clean up the blood around her nose. As I gently wipe it off, I can’t stop taking in her stunning features. Her skin is a beautiful shade of olive, a direct contrast to my alabaster tones, and flawless. Her berry lips are slightly parted and if I stare at them any longer, I’m going to want to do things I regret. A knock at the door stops the dirty fantasy in its tracks as the doctor enters with her bag and a stethoscope around her neck.

“Is this her?” she asks, sliding her hands into blue plastic gloves.

“Yeah, it’s her. What’s wrong with her?” I ask gruffly as my associate steps back outside the door.

“I don’t know yet. When I take a closer look, I’ll be able to find out. Excuse me.” Possessively, I stand over Ava, realizing I’m hindering the doctor from doing her job. Stepping back, my jaw clenches, confusion clouding my judgment. I shouldn’t care about her. All I should care about is taking Raven’s Peak from her, but somehow, I don’t want her dead body on my hands. That’s not how I want to take the property from her. I want her to hand it to me herself.

“Sorry,” I mutter, eyeing the doctor briefly. “Make sure she’s okay.”

The doctor disregards my request, but I know for a fact she’s very good. She’s been able to fix bullet wounds in less than an hour and has traveled with my men when we’ve needed her on missions, and what’s even better is she’s never opened her mouth. Besides if she did, I would kill her and her family, which tends to stop any of my staff from talking or leaving. The way of the Bratva is similar to most mobs, there’s only a couple of ways out—jail or in a body bag. We are no exception.

After watching Ava come back to life, I listen carefully to the doctor asking her questions. “Have you fainted before?”

“No,” she explains groggily in a state of bafflement. “I’ve been pretty stressed with my work at the diner, but nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’m going to take some tests, and check what’s going on with you. They may take a couple of hours to conduct. Okay?”

“Sure. It’s not like I have a choice,” she remarks bitterly, placing the doctor in an awkward position as I tap my steepled fingers together, studying the young woman and wondering what it’s going to take to relieve her of Raven’s Peak. What principles have her holding out?

“No, you don’t,” I jump in, making it clear she’s right. Her eyes narrow in my direction, adding the element of surprise. Not only is she stubborn, but she’s also angry and not afraid to fight back. This is new for me. Most fear me, and I’ve seen the emotion in her eyes, but she’s not budging.

I wait, watching as the doctor makes her drink a solution and takes her blood. After a few hours the results come back, and I find myself perched on the edge of my seat wanting to know the diagnosis just as much as Ava does.

“Well, after the tests I can see you have hypoglycemia, and you’re severely dehydrated. Not to mention malnourished. I have a list of vitamins that I suggest you take.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she replies humbly as I flash her a look of annoyance. This could have been prevented much like this entire circumstance.

“Have you eaten since being here?” The doctor looks from me to Ava, a wave of guilt running through me.

“No. I haven’t been fed.”

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