Page 56 of Forced Bratva Hostage

I shook my head, feeling sorry for the bitterness in his tone and the hatred in his eyes. “What did he do to you?” I asked, my gaze fixed on him. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“Because he took everything from me!” Kolya thundered, his voice echoing across the room.

I flinched at his sudden outburst, my eyes fluttering shut for a second.

“I've been a good soldier, loyal to the Bratva for a very long time!” he snapped, as though my question had triggered his pain. “Afanasy threw it all away because I made one mistake—onemistake!” He boiled, his jaw clenching, eyes blazing with fury. “That's all it took to erase all the good I'd done for him and the Tarasov Bratva.”

He looked right into my eyes, his jaw tightening as he pointed at his scar. “Your husband did this to me, gave me a lifelong scar as punishment. What an ungrateful bastard!” His tone was dripping with venom.

He seemed really angry, like he had nothing else to lose, and such men were usually very dangerous. They'd do anything to exert revenge on those who hurt them. It was quite unfortunate that I was caught in the crossfire.

He exhaled sharply, stepping forward, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Anyway, both you and your husband will be history in, say…ten minutes.” The slight pause came when he glanced at his watch.

Before my brain could register his words, Kolya's hands moved deftly, clasping the device around my neck. A gasp escaped my lips as it secured in place with a softclick.

A subtle red glow emitted from the device, beeping faintly. I was no bomb expert, but I knew that the combination of red and a beeping sound could only mean one thing.

My eyes widened, my struggles resuming. “Get it off me!” The restraints held me bound, my body yanking back and forth with an energy I didn't know I had.

He laughed, taking a step back. “The bomb's been set to detonate in ten minutes.” Kolya pointed at a digital wall clock across from me. “How fast do you think Afan will get here?” He let out an evil laugh. “Two things will happen when he tries toarm the bomb and fails: He'll either leave you and save his own skin, or he'll decide to play Romeo and die with you. Either way, I win!”

His sinister laugh made my skin crawl, especially since he reveled in the idea of blowing me to pieces.

Just then, the sound of multiple vehicles screeching to a halt outside caught our attention.

He jerked his eyes up, a smirk playing on his lips. “The cavalry has arrived.” Kolya revealed a black hood in his hand. “As much as I'd love to watch this unfold, that's my cue.” He laughed, securing my lips with a strip of duct tape before covering my face with the hood. “Adieu, Mrs. Tarasov. See you in hell.”

I struggled in the chair, muffle-screaming as I heard him retreating through the back door, whistling a song.

The front door burst open, and multiple footsteps pounded in. The scent of Afan’s cologne announced his arrival before his voice echoed through the room. “Wren!”

I shook my head, struggling, screaming so he'd get away from me and save himself, but he interpreted the gesture as a cry for help. Footsteps rushed past me, as though a couple of men were going after Kolya.

The hood was yanked off my face, and there he was, standing in front of me, anxiety evident in his wide eyes and furrowed brows.

As much as I appreciated him being here, it was pointless for him to die with me.

I shook my head, my eyes misting as he carefully peeled the tape off my lips. “It's a trap!” I gasped, my chest heaving.

He squinted for a moment before his eyes fell on the device around my neck, and I watched his jaw clench in anger.

“We have less than six minutes before this thing goes off,” I said, tears streaming down my eyes, my voice trembling.

Afanasy wouldn't look at me; he traced my gaze to the wall clock, its seconds counting down. My husband scanned the room until he spotted Kolya's table. He rushed over there and helped himself with some tools, then returned to me.

I figured the men who came with him must have gone after Kolya, considering we were alone in the room.

“Stay calm,” he whispered, his voice laced with urgency as he bent over, examining the device.

He looked like he knew what he was doing, muttering technical words I couldn't catch. The next thing I knew, he inserted a thin tool into the collar's mechanism, twisting and probing for the trigger wire.

My eyes flew back to the clock—five minutes left—and I could feel the cold sweat trickling down my forehead. Afanasy was still working on disarming the bomb, his fingers moving with lightning speed. But would he beat the time?

“Come on!” he muttered, his face dampened in sweat and frustration.

The countdown continued: 03:59…03:58…03:57….

“Come on!” he groaned, swiping the sweat on his face.

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