Page 32 of Kidnapped Bratva Virgin

“You’re as important, if not more than Raven’s Peak. I want you in my life for the long haul. I don’t care what any of my associates say, and if you ever have anything you want to tell me, then don’t be afraid. I won’t listen to many, but I will to you.” I’m probably revealing too much, but that’s the magic of Ms. Knight. The young beauty has woven a spell on me, and I don’t want it to be broken.Ever.

“I think I’m convinced.” Her face transforms, back to its tranquil state.

“I’m glad you asked me. I’m not the best with the feeling stuff. I’m Bratva. We don’t do feelings. We do business.”

Ava caresses the back of my neck as I lean back into it. “I don’t think so. You did well just then.”

“Ava….” I trail off, letting my mouth reach hers and telling her what I want to say without words, slipping my tongue in to greet hers, our mouths melding in harmony. God. I could sink into her and never want to come out. My hands tousle through her hair, our kiss deepening until we both have to part to take air.

She looks at me in earnest. “I have to tell you something.”

The rude awakening of a phone call captures my attention. “Hold that thought, Ava. I have to take this.”

I answer the call, Viktor, on the other end of the line. “Boss, you need to come down to the office ASAP. I’ve got information you’re going to want to deal with right away.”

Not questioning Viktor, my jaw tightens. There’s always something to deal with. This is my life, always.”

“Okay, give me twenty minutes to get there. Do I need to be there quicker than that?” I ask, wanting a gauge on how urgent the situation is.

“No, you get here when you get here, but it is urgent, and you’re going to want to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.” Sighing, but puzzled by Viktor’s cryptic message, I steady my resolve.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the office shortly.”

“Good.” I hang up from him, but the one person I don’t want to leave hanging is Ava.

“Hey, something important has come up at the office, but when I get back, we can continue this conversation.” I read the disappointment on her face, but she smiles anyway.

“I know you have to go. I’ll wait for you to get back then. Be safe.”

Kissing the top of her head, I make tracks to the door, but what I’d rather do is spend the day making love to Ava and convincing her how much I care about her. Maybe it’s too early to call it love, but maybe I’m in so deep already that it’s beyond words for me.

Chapter Seventeen - Ava

Biting what’s left of my nails, I pace the kitchen floor, and sometimes drive myself batty by walking in small semicircles.I’m going to tell him when he gets back.I have to, because it’s eating me up inside, and that can’t be good for the baby.

“He wants to be with me, he said so himself. I don’t have to worry about it anymore,” I convince myself out loud, but where is he? And what is taking so long for him to get back?

Already, it’s been two hours too long. My phone pinging jump-starts my heart, which is already on a cliff’s edge. Scraping up my phone from the expensive marble kitchen benchtop, the housekeeper stares at me with curious interest.

She probably thinks I’m crazy, and in this moment, that’s what all this feels like.

An assortment of pictures flood in from an unknown number, via a link. Squinting, I hit the first link opening to a picture of me with my mouth slackened open, my eyes closed with a blanket up to the top of my body. My heart freezes up as I stare in horror at my phone, a strange man in bed under the covers with me, kissing the side of my face, and it’s obvious I don’t have a top on, because the blanket is low enough to show my bare skin. Dimitri has tattoos. It’s not him. Deliriously, my brain caves in thinking back to the night and how it could have happened. This man doesn’t have tattoos. I check the photo again, my eyes welling with water. Nausea swirls through me as I keep staring at the horror show. This time the guy’s making a lewd face, his leg covered over mine.

And the reel keeps on going as another picture comes in. I hit the link again, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “No, no, no,” I let out in hushed disgrace the next link with theblanket a little lower, the outline of my areola on display. Dry heaving, I check one more time wanting it not to be real. Was it Photoshopped? Did they Photoshop my top half?

No. They couldn’t have. It looked too real. The real size of my chest. No. She wouldn’t do that to me. Not my best friend. Why would she?Fuck. How?There’s too much to process. In a panic I run out of the room to the bedroom bathroom vomiting up my breakfast and sobbing into the mirror as I rinse out my mouth.

Please don’t let it be true. Through dizziness and a dry mouth, I squint in the mirror attempting to make sense of the links. What’s really going on right now? Washing the cool water over my face again, the panic stations inside me drive upwards as I race back out retrieving my phone and bullying myself to look at the photos once more.Yes. It’s me. Somebody took my top off. I was fully clothed in silk pajamas when I went to bed. Sickened by the photos, I check again, taking note of the necklace around my neck. The expensive one Dimitri brought me.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, and now I can’t wait for him to get home. I want to tell him myself before he sees the photos. To want to be the one to show him and let him know it wasn’t me and I had nothing to do with it.I’d been drugged or something.I want to throw up again as I hold on to the porcelain sink. I’d been drugged. Fuck. The painful realization hits as I remember the funny taste of the cocoa thinking Cindy had tampered with the recipe.

My best friend of thirteen years. Shaking my head, I feel my throat close over. Why would she do this to me? I love her—loved her, past tense.

Rifling a hand through my hair, I touch my stomach glad enough I didn’t tell her about the baby. My gut instincts had been right. The same beverage we happily shared on bone-chilling Chicago nights as we talked about our hopes and dreams of making there.

Sick to my stomach, I stay hidden in Dimitri’s room, not wanting the staff to see what a distraught mess I am. I draw up Dimitri’s number wanting to call him, but I think better of it, just wanting to see his face, so I can explain everything. Even if I don’t know what I’m explaining.

---