Page 8 of Forced Bratva Hostage

The man was a loyal foot soldier, one of the very few that I trusted.

I'd called them both to get a briefing on the project. I needed updates on the situation.

“The debtors have all complied,” Yakov said, sliding a file to my side of the table. “Every last one of them has paid their debts.”

I opened the file, scrutinizing the names and the payment amounts with a critical eye, astonished at the staggering debt total. This windfall would put our business back on track in no time.

As I peered at the scale of debt repayment, a small smirk played on the corners of my lips until my gaze fell upon one name whose debt was yet to be paid. “You said every last one of them had paid up.” I shot a glance at Yakov, my brows furrowing slightly.

“They all have, except for one man.” He adjusted in his chair, his eyes locked to mine. “Harrison Everett.”

I felt my blood boil with rage, prompting me to squint, wondering who this man was and why Yakov couldn’t get him to oblige the Bratva.

“Harrison Everett has proven…elusive,” Anatoli said, his tone laced with a glimmer of disappointment.

My eyes narrowed, and my forehead creased. “What do you meanelusive?”

“He always slipped through our fingers, Boss,” Yakov began, his voice tinged with indignation and a hint of frustration. “The bastard had no definite location. He's always on the move.”

“We've tracked him to various cities, but he always has a way of vanishing before we can apprehend him,” said Anatoli, his gaze fixated on me.

“He's in the wind, Boss,” Yakov declared, his jaw subtly clenching.

This must be hard on him. Yakov never liked it when he lost a target, and this Harrison Everett seemed like a clever bastard.

I leaned back in my chair, fingers rubbing over the bridge of my nose as I pondered a solution. We’d secured the funds we needed to stabilize our business, but the idea that some idiot was still out there, eluding the Bratva, infuriated me.

The fool must think he was clever, but no matter how intelligent, he was bound to make a mistake. He'd slip up eventually, and I was banking on that.

I raised my eyes at Yakov. “Where was he last seen?” My voice was calm and calculating.

“53rd Street Boulevard,” he replied, withdrawing his phone from his pocket. “He went to visit his daughter.” Yakov passed his device to me.

My brows arched instantly, amusement washing over my face. Yakov should have just led with this. “He has a daughter?” I accepted the phone, eyes falling on the photo of a beautiful young woman with long dark hair and a pair of expressive brown eyes.

“Her name is Wren Everett,” Yakov added, reclining in his chair.

It didn't matter how beautiful she was with her petite frame and baby face. Her father owed us a large sum of money, and she was going to be the bait to lure him out of hiding.

I was looking to find Harrison's mistake, and now I just did.

My eyes left the photo and settled on Yakov. “She's our best shot at bringing her father in.” I shifted my gaze across the two of them, a sly grin playing on my lips. “If we take her, he'll be left with no choice but to surrender.”

“And then we'll take him instead,” Anatoli chipped in, a palm swiping his mouth.

“I'm on it.” Yakov groaned, attempting to stand.

“Don't bother,” I said, my eyes darting back to the photo of the woman on the phone in my hand. “I'll take care of this one myself.” I locked the phone screen and handed it back to him. “It's been a while since I was out in the field.” A devilish grin spread across my face as my fingers drummed over the mahogany table.

This should be fun.

Chapter 4 – Wren

My heels clicked against the pavement as I walked home under the cold and distant stars; my mind flooded with thoughts of my dad and how much I missed him.

It didn't matter how many times he tricked me into thinking he'd changed just because he needed my help. I would always fall for the same old tactics like a dumb little girl, and maybe deep down, that was what I was.

Why couldn't he just be like a regular dad? Why did he always have to make stuff so complicated all the time?

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