Page 44 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

His voice reminded me of the message he'd relayed from Alejandro De la Cruz.

My jaw tightened, and my brows furrowed at Alejandro's threats of burning my empire to the ground.

He had the audacity, the effrontery, to go after my wife?

A low growl rumbled in my throat as I sat rigid, seething with anger, finding comfort in the way I'd make that bastard pay.

Alejandro had crossed a line; he'd bitten off more than he could chew. His quest for attention had led to him kidnapping my wife.

Now, he had my attention. He had my full attention.

My face, beet red, contorted into a snarl, my eyes blazing with fury as I met Gordey's in the rearview mirror. “De la Cruz has my wife,” I spat, my voice laced with venom.

“Son of a bitch!” Gordey growled, his deep voice filled with rage. His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

It wasn't until I heard Alexandra's worried voice coming through the phone's speakers that I realized she was still on the line.

“What's going on, sir?” she asked, her voice trembling. She must have heard when I said that De la Cruz had Lorena.

Without a word, I hung up the phone, my hands clenched into fists.

“What do we do now?” Gordey asked, his expression darkening.

“We pay that bastard a visit,” I replied, my jaw tightening. “Gather the men. We're going to war.

Gordey slammed on the brakes, then wrenched the wheel to the left hard, executing a tight yet impressive tire-smoking U-turn that cut off other drivers.

His abrupt move left a chorus of shouted insults, blaring horns, and screeching tires in its wake.

I called the one person I knew would come through for me in times like this: my cousin, Lev Tarasov.

“Hey, man,” he answered on the other line.

“Lev, I need your help taking someone down,” I said, my voice laced with urgency.

“Alright, cousin, I got you,” he said, his response curt and decisive. “Who's the target?”

“De la Cruz,” I replied, feeling my blood boil at the mention of his name.

“It's high time someone taught that bastard a lesson anyway,” Lev growled. “Text me the address.”

Lev Tarasov, my closest cousin and ally, was an embodiment of loyalty. The man was ever willing to go to hell and back with me. He was a brother in every sense, one who would drop everything to stand by my side, no matter the reason.

If I called, he'd come without hesitation or expectation of an explanation. It was a mutual understanding that went both ways.

*****

Dust rose into the air as our cars invaded De la Cruz's warehouse. My men, armed to the teeth, alighted the vehicles, shooting down De la Cruz's guards.

Chaos erupted as Lev and I led the charge, bursting through the rusty metal doors, surrounded by our men.

The dimly lit interior was set ablaze with gunfire, the loud shots filling the air as bullets pelted, ricocheting off the high walls.

De la Cruz's henchmen were no match for my foot soldiers, who took them down without much effort. Gordey laid down half a hail of bullets, clearing a path through the warehouse as we pushed further.

This entire time, neither Lev nor I had withdrawn our weapons. We didn't have any need to do so; my men had everything under control.

Bodies carpeted the floor, and wails wafted through the air, accompanied by the deafening sounds of rapid gunfire.

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