Page 49 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

She’s in the corner, pale and trembling, her wide eyes locked on the scene before her. A kitchen knife is clutched tightly in her hands, her knuckles white from the force of her grip.

“Stay there,” I bark, my tone sharper than I intend.

The intruder takes advantage of my momentary distraction, lunging for me with surprising speed. I pivot, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and fire.

The shot echoes through the room, the bullet finding its mark with precision. The man collapses, his body hitting the floor with a sickening thud, and the knife he’d been reaching for spins out of reach.

Silence falls, thick and suffocating, broken only by the sound of my heavy breathing.

I turn immediately, my gaze locking on Hannah. She’s frozen in place, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes fixed on the lifeless body sprawled on the floor.

“Hannah,” I say, my voice softer now as I take a cautious step toward her.

She doesn’t respond, her grip on the knife tightening.

“Hannah,” I repeat, crouching down in front of her. “It’s over.”

Her gaze finally shifts to mine, her eyes glassy with shock. “He… he was going to kill me,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“He didn’t,” I reply firmly. “Because I stopped him.”

Her breathing is shallow, her knuckles still white around the handle of the knife. I reach out slowly, careful not to startle her.

“Give me the knife,” I say gently. “You don’t need it anymore.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move, her grip unyielding. Then, slowly, her fingers loosen, and the blade slips from her hands to clatter against the floor.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, scanning her for any signs of injury.

She shakes her head, but the fear in her eyes doesn’t fade.

I exhale quietly, relief washing over me despite the lingering tension in my chest. Someone dared to come into my home, to threaten her.

My wife.

The thought sends a surge of fury through me, and I glance back at the fallen intruder, my jaw clenching. This was a warning, a message meant to unsettle me. But they made a mistake targeting her.

They’ll learn what happens when someone tries to harm what’s mine.

“Hannah,” I say, my voice softer as I turn back to her.

Her gaze is locked on the body again, her shoulders trembling. I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The touch seems to ground her, her wide eyes flicking back to mine.

“You’re safe now,” I tell her, the words carrying more weight than I expect. “I promise.”

Hannah blinks, her wide, terrified gaze shifting from the lifeless body on the floor to me. Her breathing is uneven, her lips parted as though she wants to say something but can’t quite form the words.

I crouch lower, my eyes locked on hers.

Her eyes flicker to the blade as though she’s only just remembered she’s holding it. Her grip loosens slightly, but she hesitates. For a moment, I think she’ll cling to it like a lifeline. Then her fingers slowly unfurl, letting the knife slip free.

I take it gently, setting it aside on the floor. Her hands fall limply into her lap, the tension bleeding out of her like air escaping a punctured balloon.

“Hey,” I say again, quieter this time, my voice carrying a steadiness I hope she feels.

She doesn’t respond, her body frozen, her breathing still shallow. Her gaze drops to her hands, trembling against her thighs.

Seeing her like this—a woman so full of fire now reduced to this trembling, vulnerable state—stirs something deep in me.

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