Page 11 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

In one swift morning, his arm snaps out of my pathetic grip, and his fingers latch around my wrist. He turns his head to look down at me with narrowed eyes, and his stare renders me breathless, fear sparking in my chest.

“You were in danger. I removed you from the danger. You’re welcome.”

He lets go of my wrist, and I stand there, unsure what to say. I feel a mixture of everything negative—shock, unease, anxiety, fear. “I-I appreciate it,” I say, mentally kicking myself for how scared I sound, “but I’d like to go home now.”

“Not happening,” he says, and he scoffs. He fucking scoffs. As if this is some big joke to him.

The fear subsides, and the anger returns. “What? You have to let me go. You can’t just kidnap me!”

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Roman says, removing the pan from the stove and then turning it off. He’s not even giving me his full attention. “I’m keeping you safe.”

It’s my turn to scoff, which comes out far more dramatically than his. “Safe?What the fuck are you talking about? Do you hear yourself?”

Roman finally turns to face me; agitation etched into his features. “Those men would’ve taken you just like they took your friend,” he says, and I feel a pang in my chest as scenes of Riley being taken away cloud the front of my mind. “Here, they can’t get to you.”

At this point, I’m starting to feel defeated. “So, what,” I say, “they were going to kidnap me, so you kidnapped me instead? What kind of game are you playing here?”

Roman gave me a look that made me feel like he was trying to scold me with his eyes. The look disappeared a second later, replaced by what seemed to be a poor attempt at looking soft. He took a step closer. “This isn’t agame, Gwen. You have no idea what they’re capable of. And I didn’t kidnap you. I had to get you away from the chaos. Trust me, you were in serious danger.”

I shook my head, grappling with the situation. “Danger? Riley is the only person in danger. She’s missing!” The anger that resides in me is not even close to diffusing. “And now? What do you expect me to do here? Should I just sit around and wait? I need to find Riley. They could be hurting her!”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Roman says firmly. He crosses his arms, and just like that, his expressions darken once again. It sends a wave of discomfort through me.

“Y-yes,” I try. “We have to go to the cops and tell them what happened. I’m sure the casino has dozens of security cameras. They might be able to see the faces of the men who took her.”

“We’re not going to the cops,” Roman says firmly. At this point, his voice lacks all emotion, dripping with danger.

My heart drops entirely. I feel sick. The reality of my situation sinks in more with every passing second, and I’m starting to wonder who the man who approached me last night really was. “W-what?” I sputter. “What do you mean we’re not going to the cops? How else are we supposed to find her?”

The toaster pops, and I jump and nearly scream. For a second, what appears to be amusement flashes across Roman’s eyes before he goes to plate his food. He’s completely unbothered and far too calm.

“Look,” I speak up once more. I have to keep trying. I have to find a way out of this, to get to the cops, to get Riley back. “I-I don’t know who you are or who those men are, but… But I just want to go home, okay? I’ll go to the cops on my own. I won’t even mention you.”

Roman turns around, putting two plates of food on the counter. My breath caught in my throat when he turned back to me, taking a few steps until we were dangerously close. My body suddenly rejects my anger and sends another kind of heat running through me.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Roman says, and for the first time throughout this entire interaction, he almost sounds human. He narrows his eyes as he looks down at me. “I’ll get your friend back. You have my word. But you stay here. And no cops.”

Defeat washes over me once again, mixed in with a sense of danger. I can’t help but ask, “What kind of person doesn’t want cops involved in something like this?”

At my words, he smirks. He fuckingsmirks.

It disappears as fast as it appears, and he leans against the fridge. “You know how I told you my family owns the casino?” He asks, and I nod, even though my memory of the previous night is fuzzy, and I have no recollection of him ever mentioning that. “It belongs to my cousin. I looked at the footage this morning with my brother, and he vaguely remembers my cousin mentioning these guys poking their noses where they don’t belong.”

He grabs his plate of food from the counter, shoving toast into his mouth as he continues. “My cousin’s out of town, so I’m watching the place in the meantime. These guys must’ve foundout about it, and when they saw me, they thought to make a move. Send a message, I suppose.”

“But why me? Why Riley?” I shake my head in confusion. “I didn’t even know you before last night—I don’t know you. What do we have to do with this? Why did they take her?”

Roman shrugs. “I noticed them come in after I approached you. I guess they thought we knew each other.”

My mind quickly thinks back to Roman approaching us, to us putting our hands in his, ready to be taken away, and the realization quickly clouds my thoughts, filling me with dread. He was right. They thought we knew each other.

“Like I said,” Roman continues, taking a gulp of orange juice. “I’ll take care of it all, but you have to do something for me first.”

I sigh in defeat. “What, you want me to stay here?”

“Yes,” he says, then shrugs. “But we also need to make a few… arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” My brow furrows. “What kind of arrangements?”

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