Page 3 of Forced Bratva Hostage

Alexei edged closer, arms on the table. “Maybe we could re-evaluate our investment.” His eyes settled on Artem. “Perhaps, diversify our portfolio.”

“That could work.” Artem nodded, his gaze sweeping across the table, hinting at his need for more suggestions.

“I say we increase our presence on the streets,” came Sergei's suggestion, his thick voice accentuating his ruggedness. “More territory, more revenue,” he growled, his tone dripping with venom. “I say we make an example of those who refuse to cooperate—we take their families and kill every last one of them…slowly.” His words carried an eerie calmness, and the smirk on his lips indicated how much he was enjoying the idea. “We'll make them suffer, make them pay the price, and then I can assure you that the others will fall in line.”

My brows remained arched all through his speech.My God! Everything's violence with this guy. But it wasn't far from what I had in mind. This time, we were on the same track.

“There's that and there's also the fact that we could renegotiate with our suppliers, secure better deals.” Roman's suggestion cut through the silence that had followed Sergei's.

“I think we're missing the point here,” I declared, my eyes shifting across their faces. “We're overlooking the obvious solution.”

Artem locked eyes with me, brows narrowing slightly, mirroring his interest in what I had to say. “Continue.”

“I was looking through the books the other day, and according to the record, the Tarasov Bratva has numerous outstanding debts.” I leaned closer, my forehead creasing at the anger swelling within me. “People owe us,Pakhan, people who borrowed from the Bratva and have refused to pay back.”

He stroked his jaw, his gaze unwavering as everyone's eyes settled on me.

“All of your suggestions make sense,” I continued, looking at their faces. “Don't you think it's high time we took action and collected what's ours?”

The room fell silent, each of my associates nurturing my idea, their gazes still lingering on me.

“I mean, think about it—we shouldn't be facing a financial crisis when there are people out there owing us.” I clenched my fist, my jaw tightening to emphasize my resolve. “I say we extract the money from our debtors by whatever means necessary—hell, we can even use Sergei's methods for all I care.” I gestured in his direction, leaning back in my chair. “As long as it gets the job done, I'm willing to consider it.”

They all exchanged glances amongst themselves; it was hard to argue with my points.

Roman locked eyes with Artem. “I think it's worth the shot,Pakhan. Afan's right; if we do this, payments will pour in.”

“He makes a valid point,” Alexei chipped in, heaving a sigh. “A demonstration of our power will send a clear message that we mean business and we're not to be messed with.”

“Fine.” Artem inclined his body, eyes fixated on me. “I want you to lead this project, Afan. I'm entrusting you with the responsibility to collect the debts by any means necessary. You have two months.” He relaxed in his chair, steepling his fingers.

“I won't disappoint,Pakhan,” I declared.

Chapter 2 – Wren

The 312 Bookstore, nestled in the bustling city of Chicago, happened to be where I worked as a bookseller—a wonderful job that I cherished.

In my 22 years of life, I’d never secured a job as satisfying and fulfilling as this one. Maybe it was because I was such a lover of good books or because I loved the scent of paper and ink. Whatever the case, this place was a sanctuary that offered limitless access to countless books.

I'd always had an insatiable hunger for knowledge, to feed my mind with important things that mattered. It wasn't just about absorbing information, nor was it just about fiction. No, my love for books transcended beyond that.

I wanted to grow and enhance my ability to think. I wanted to use my knowledge to help humanity, to solve problems in the ways that I could. And that passion was what fueled my love for reading.

I had a friend, Julia, who never passed on any opportunity she got to learn something new—to improve herself. And in more ways than one, she inspired me to be better, to desire more knowledge.

One would say that I was a bibliophile. They wouldn't be too far from the truth.

Reading helped me relax. It broadened my imagination and sharpened my mind. Sometimes, it was a means to escape my own reality.

Advocating for those who wanted to gain knowledge but couldn't due to one circumstance or another was a dream I had. It seemed silly thinking about it, but deep down, it was what I wanted to do.

Regardless of how stupid and unrealistic it seemed, it brought me some kind of peace and comfort whenever I thought it through.

Maybe one day, I might live the dream; I might become the woman I envisioned every night before going to bed—strong, confident, accomplished, and financially free.

But until then, I was just an ordinary bookseller in one of the biggest bookstores in the city.

I didn't have much, wasn't living a life of luxury, but I was satisfied. As long as I had books to read, I was good.

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