Page 8 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

I feel her grip on my arm loosen. "Riley, no!" I plead, but it's too late. With a strangled cry, she tears her hand from mine and bolts in the opposite direction, disappearing into the chaos of fleeing bodies and overturned furniture.

"Riley!" I scream, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Panic overwhelms me, and I start to turn, desperate to go after her. I can't lose her. What if she gets shot? I tug away from Roman, but before I get the chance to chase after her, I feel large, muscular arms wrap around my waist.

"Stop!” I immediately protest as he lifts me in the air, presses my body against his chest, and holds me bridal-style. My heart viciously pitter-patters in my chest from a mixture of shyness, shock, and fear as Roman starts to sprint, expertly navigating the crowd.

“Stop!” I try again, but it’s no use. I turn to look him in the face, but he only meets my eyes for a second before returning his focus to the scenes in front of him, determination glinting in his eyes.

Nausea begins to take over, and I can’t tell if it's from the nervousness of being in this man’s arms or if the events unfolding in front of me as a whole are causing so much fear that it’s making me ill.

I can’t help but wrap my arms around Roman’s neck as he carries me. It’s purely for stability, but it makes me so flustered that I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks, which pisses me off even more. Everything moves so fast that I struggle to make out other faces and figures as Roman hurriedly carries me through the crowd. My mind, however, never loses focus on my friend.

“Riley!” I shout out, my eyes frantically darting from left to right as I look for my friend. I can’t find her. I can’t find her anywhere. She couldn’t have gotten far. No, the crowd was too thick, too panicked. However, the many exits this place has must be so incredibly congested that there is no way she has left the building already.

My lips peel apart to call out again when suddenly my heart drops.

Way out in the distance, I see Riley. I watch as she runs, and then, suddenly, she’s surrounded by multiple men in dark suits who latch onto her. One wraps his arms around her, while another covers her mouth before a third throws a black bag over her head. Together, they all begin to carry her away.

“Oh my god!” I choke out a terrified gasp. “Oh my god, Riley! Riley!” I scream as if my screams would be heard by her as if they would magically stop the men from disappearing into the crowd with her.

“Riley! Ri—fuck, put me down!” I yell at Roman. I grow dizzier and dizzier by the moment as he sprints with me through the crowd. “Stop! Stop! I saw them take her! I saw them take her!”

“I can’t,” Roman says as he ducks out of the way of a man falling over. His head moves from left to right before he slows his pace, just momentarily, to look down at me.

“What?” I croak, tears stinging my eyes. “What do you mean you can’t? We have to go back. We have to help her! I can’t just leave her! They took her.” I’m panicking more and more by the second, and my words are a jumbled mess.

“We have to leave her behind,” Roman says to me. His stone-cold face softens, his eyebrows knotting together, with alook of what seems to be guilt flashing across his gaze. “They are long gone by now. It’s too late.”

Anger burns fiercely inside of me as I slam my palms into his chest, striking him as hard as I possibly can.

“Stop!” I yell as he picks up his pace again, and I swipe away a hot tear that rolls down my cheek. “Fucking stop! Stop, you asshole!” I curse at him, but there’s nothing I can do. I try to pound my palms into his chest over and over, curse at him incessantly, but to no avail. Roman’s grip is firm, his pace unrelenting.

The chaos of the casino seems to spiral into a blur of flashing lights and disjointed screams as he navigates the maze of panic-stricken bodies. My struggles against him are futile; every attempt to wriggle free only makes me more disoriented. The world tilts, and the frantic rush of my heartbeat echoes in my ears.

"Roman! Stop! Put me down!" I cry out, but the scenes around us swallow my voice. Tears sting my eyes as I look back to where I last saw my best friend, but she is no longer there. The tightness in my chest intensifies with every passing second. I suddenly feel as if I’m about to faint.

“Breathe,” Roman says. “I need you to breathe for me.”

“I-I’m not… fucking…” I try, but my voice is lost in my gasps for air. I lift a hand and rub at my throat as if I’m trying to pull the words out myself. “I can’t... I can’t…”

“You’re okay. I’ve got you,” Roman says, but his voice is growing fainter and fainter. His grip around my head tightens, the warmth of my arm enveloping my upper body in a comforting, safe embrace. Black spots cloud the corner of my vision, and I’m so lost in this feeling of security that I fail to feelthe pressure he’s putting on my carotid artery with his bicep, which carefully helps me to lose consciousness.

We burst through a side exit and into the cool night air. The contrast is jarring—one moment, I’m enveloped in the heat of the casino’s pandemonium, and the next, I’m outside in a dimly lit alley. Roman’s steps are quick and purposeful, and before I know it, we’re at a sleek, dark sedan. He slides me off his shoulder and deposits me carefully into the backseat.

I don’t sit up. I don’t have the strength to or for anything else. Every second that passes, I grow tired quicker and quicker. My eyes are blurred from both tears, and I slowly slip into unconsciousness as I watch him hover over me.

“Roman…” I mumble, my voice croaking barely above a whisper. I blink heavily at him as he leans towards me to brush a stray blonde hair from my eyes, resting his palm on my cheek.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” he says as the blackness rapidly takes over. I’m unable to hold my head up any longer as it slumps against the leather seat, sweetly guided by his palm.

“You’re safe now,Moya Lyubov. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Chapter 3 - Roman

The chaos erupted in an instant.

One moment, the casino was a haven of luxury and excitement; the next, it was a war zone. The gunshots cut through the air with brutal clarity, the noise overwhelming the murmur of the crowd. My eyes scanned the room swiftly with precision as I searched for the source of the threat, but every part of me knew already that those men were behind this long before I spotted them in the corner with their weapons pointed in my direction.

I had to act, and I had to act fast.

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