Page 52 of Forced Bratva Hostage

Veronica used to think that I would never get tired of her; she could swear on her life that I couldn't go a week without a taste of her pussy. And she wasn't wrong to think that.

A whopping few months ago, things were very different between us. I used to love her company, and sex with her was always great. I fancied her as much as she did me, and we enjoyed fooling around a lot.

Veronica was the only woman I’d slept with more than a few times in a row. I often lost interest in the women I had sex with, almost immediately after having them in my bed.

It was clear that she must have been under the impression that I couldn't get enough of her. She must have thought that she was special to me or that I couldn't resist her charm.

She was wrong. She meant nothing to me.

Veronica's wrist strained in my hold as she attempted to pull away, wincing. “Afan, you're hurting me,” she mumbled, her gaze pinned on me.

“Don't you ever…” I leaned forward, my words spoken with deliberate slowness, “...try to touch me the way you just did,or I swear to God, you will lose your hand.” My tone was low and menacing, accentuating a deep scowl. “Do you understand?”

She nodded rapidly, her shoulders stiffening and lips pressing into a thin line as terror crept into her like a slow-rising tide. Veronica's eyelids fluttered as if trying to shut out the fear etched across her features.

I let go of her, and she stumbled backward, her fingers rubbing over her wrist. My rejection had bruised her ego, and the effect was terrible because she wasn't anticipating such a hostile reaction from me.

“What did I do to deserve this?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Tell me, and I swear, I'll make it right—I'll do anything…” she added, her tone laced with desperation.

“Enough, Veronica,” I cut her off, my brows narrowing, mirroring my irritation at her words. “Just stay away from me…” I drew closer, “because if you don't, I will make you wish you were dead,” I spat, my warning venomous.

Threatening Veronica was the only way to keep her off my back. She was an impulsive woman who wouldn't mind going the lengths just to make sure no other woman had me. The mere thought of her going after Wren made my blood boil, hence the reason for my seriousness.

She knew I wasn't a man to be messed with. I'd end her life in a heartbeat if it came down to it.

I could see the horror in her eyes, and that should be enough to keep her far away from me and my household. It was time I took my family seriously, and the first step to doing that was by cutting off the likes of Veronica.

Taking a final drag of my cigarette, I puffed the smoke, tossed the stick away, and left her standing there, alone. Veronica wasn't used to being rejected by men, so this was going to hurt her real bad.

I returned to the party, enveloped by the soft glows of the chandeliers and the hushed conversations of the guests. My eyes scanned the expansive space after I couldn't find my wife or Julia.

Maybe the two women had decided to take a walk outside and catch up on old times. Clearly, it had been ages since they last saw each other, and there was more than enough to discuss. I hadn't wrapped my head around the coincidence of them being good friends, anyway.

I was looking for Wren, but then I found Alexei instead. He stood with a group of men, talking, engrossed in what seemed to be a casual conversation.

He jerked his head in my direction and excused himself from the group.

“There you are,” I said, tucking a hand in my pocket as he approached me. “I've been waiting for you back on the balcony. You were supposed to return after your phone call.”

“I was, yes, and I would have, but I didn't wanna ruin the moment,” he replied, halting in front of me, eyes crinkling at the corners as a mischievous grin spread across his face.

My brows knitted together, puzzled. “Ruin what moment? I was only straightening Veronica out.”

“Veronica?” He squinted and pushed his head back, surprise flickering in his gaze. “I was talking about Wren.”

My eyebrows arched at the revelation. “Wren…. What're you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about? I thought she was with you; that's why I didn't bother returning,” he said, his tone laced with suspicion at the glaring shock on my face.

“Why would you think she was me?” I tilted my head, anticipating his response.

“Because I saw her going in your direction,” he explained, his eyes never leaving mine until a group of men called out for him.

“Excuse me, cousin, I'll be right back,” he said, tapping my shoulder as he dematerialized.

My eyes narrowed, my mind flooded with a myriad of thoughts, but one possibility stood out: Wren might have seen me and Veronica.

Shit!

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