Page 19 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

Hope surges in my chest as I rush to it, lifting the receiver with trembling hands. My fingers quickly dial 911, and I press the phone to my ear, holding my breath.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” a calm voice answers.

Relief floods through me, and I speak quickly, the words tumbling out. “My name is Hannah Fox. I’m being held against my will. Makar Sharov—he killed a man in front of me. Kris Hunter. He shot him, and now he’s kidnapped me. I don’t know where I am.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and the operator’s voice returns, clipped and professional. “Where is Makar Sharov now?”

I glance around the empty foyer, my breath hitching. “I—I don’t know.”

The voice takes on a chilling edge. “Maybe he’s behind you.”

The receiver slips from my fingers, clattering against the table as realization slams into me. The line wasn’t connected to the police. It was a trap.

I turn slowly, my stomach knotting, and there he is.

Makar.

He stands at the base of the stairs, leaning casually against the banister, his lips curved into a grin. He’s dressed sharply as always, his dark suit tailored to perfection, the faint gleam of his watch catching the light.

“Calling for help?” he says smoothly, his voice carrying across the room. “How predictable.”

I back away instinctively, my palms pressing against the table. “You… you planned this.”

His grin deepens as he takes a step closer, his movements deliberate, unhurried. “Did you really think I’d leave an unsecured phone in reach of a guest like you?”

“I’m not your guest,” I snap, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound strong. “I’m your prisoner.”

He tilts his head, amusement flickering in his piercing blue eyes. “Prisoner is such a dramatic word. Let’s call you… my responsibility.”

I grit my teeth, my fists clenching at my sides. “Let me go.”

He laughs softly, the sound low and unsettling. “You know I can’t do that, Hannah. Not after what you’ve seen.”

His words send a chill through me, and I take another step back, my legs hitting the edge of a nearby table. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

“No,” he agrees, closing the distance between us with a few long strides. “For now, you’ll stay exactly where I want you.”

My back presses against the wall as he stops in front of me, his presence overwhelming. The air between us feels charged, heavy, and I force myself to meet his gaze despite the instinct to look away.

His hand moves, and I flinch, but he only brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You’re scared,” he murmurs, his voice soft but edged with something darker. “Good. Fear keeps people alive.”

“Fuck you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He leans closer, his expression fading into something colder, more calculating. “Hate me all you want, little fox. Understand this: I could have killed you last night. I didn’t.”

“Why?” I demand, my voice cracking. “Why keep me alive?”

His eyes bore into mine, unreadable and intense. “I don’t make decisions lightly,” he says, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You… you’re an interesting complication.”

Before I can respond, his hand presses against the wall beside my head, caging me in. His other hand lifts to my chin, tilting my face upward so I can’t look away.

“You think you’re brave,” he says, his lips curving into a faint smirk again. “But bravery only lasts until the consequences catch up.”

The heat of his closeness makes my breath hitch, my heart racing despite the fear coursing through me.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I lie, the words trembling on my lips.

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