Page 54 of Forced Bratva Hostage

“Track that bastard's car,” I spat, my blood boiling with rage and fingers clenching into fists. “I want him found.”

Yakov started the engine and zoomed out of the compound.

My jaw tightened as I struggled to stay calm, seeking solace in the torment I'd inflict on that ungrateful son of a bitch.

How dare he go after my wife—my wife?!

He was definitely going to pay, and this time, he would pay for it with his life. I would make sure of that.

Stealing from me was one thing; kidnapping my wife, on the other hand, was an entirely different offense, one punishable by death.

I wouldn't spare his life this time. He'd crossed the line, and he would dance to the tune of the music.

My chest swelled with rage, my mind cooking up ways to make him suffer before sending him on a one-way trip to hell.

Chapter 20 – Wren

My eyelids fluttered for a moment, a slight pang echoing at the back of my head as I regained consciousness. The gentle throbbing in my skull caused me to wince, my heavy eyes drinking in the dimly lit room.

My vision was blurry, but I could still see a figure lurking in the shadows in front of me. It was still a little fuzzy in my mind, my thoughts overlapping as I struggled to make sense of what was going on.

How did I get here? What was happening?

I groaned softly, my head suddenly too heavy to move—I’d yet to grasp my present predicament. My hand attempted to fly to my temple for a soothing massage, but it jerked to a stop, my wrist hurting by the restraint that held me bound.

“What the hell?” I mumbled, eyes darting down to my hands.

Although the room was dimly lit, I could see the unforgiving ropes that secured me to a chair. My eyes widened in shock as panic set in, surging through my veins.

I tried to move my feet, but the restraints on them snapped taut, an aggressive reminder of my helplessness. My heart stopped for a moment, chest heaving rapidly as I recalled how the man from the bushes had lunged at me with lightning speed.

The last thing I remembered was a needle going through my neck, clouding my mind and weakening my defenses. I recalled feeling weightless and being whisked into the air.

“Oh, my God!” I panicked, my heart racing at the realization that I had been kidnapped.

Twice now in just a few months.

I struggled against the restraints, my tensing body yanking back in the process. The more I struggled, the more those unforgiving ropes strangled my wrists.

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I gasped for air, my body stiffening, rigid with fear. My features contorted in anguish, my mind racing with fragmented thoughts. I felt the urge to scream, but was that a good idea? I thought not.

I needed to get out of here as soon as possible. But how? These ropes weren't going to yield anytime soon; plus, I had no idea where I was or who had taken me. Why would someone want to kidnap me?

Who did my father cross again? How was I sure that this had something to do with him anyway?

A myriad of thoughts tugged at my mind, threatening to rip it apart as my eyes wildly scanned the room.

At this point, only one name came to mind for my rescue, “Afanasy,” I whispered under my breath, eyes misting as I stopped struggling.

“Wise choice,” a thick, masculine voice emerged from the shadows, preceded by a low, menacing chuckle.

My heart skipped a beat, the sudden sound stealing my breath, infusing me with absolute fear. The speaker's deep tone seemed to vibrate through my very core, and like rough gravel, his voice scrapped my frayed nerves.

He continued with a deliberate slowness that only amplified my fear, “You see, the more you try to escape the ropes…” my captor stepped out of the shadows, a deadly smirk playing on his lips, “...the more they tighten around you.” Each word was laced with sinister intent, making my skin crawl.

I swallowed hard against the dryness in my throat as he halted in front of me with a round metallic device in his hand. He stood tall with an intimidating physique—a heavily built body that accentuated his ruggedness.

One thing stood out on his face: a deep cut that slanted diagonally between his eyes and over the bridge of his nose.

---