Page 63 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

“She’s right about that,” I said.

But then the person behind the camera spoke, and there was no longer any doubt that it was Kuzmin. Ivan hissed from behind me, also recognizing our rival’s voice. He taunted Olivia, threatened her until she screamed. Then the phone dropped, and I could only see a tilted view of the cracked ceiling. But I could still hear my wife struggling, gasping for breath while Kuzmin grunted with rage, and then it was quiet. The video ended a few seconds later with a palm covering the screen.

A rumble like a freight train barreling down the tracks rose from my throat. My hand shook as my muscles tightened, every fiber in my body ready to strike. And no target. No fucking clue where she was. If he hadn’t just ended her right then and there. I might never see her again or tell her how I felt. That I damn well loved her, and she was the most important thing in my life. She was my whole life. If she was gone, then I was done.

“She’s fine. She’s okay,” Ivan said, desperate to keep me from losing it. “He’s not that stupid.”

Stupid, no, but he despised me. He thought he had good reason, and finally had his chance to break me. Hatred that deep could easily override any sense the man had.

“I’ve got something,” Andre said, jumping up and pointing to his screen. “Call Josef and verify, but I think I’ve got a location.”

Before I could press the contact on my phone, it rang, and Josef quickly verified he’d also located where they were, based on the video file he just analyzed.

“Dumb asshole was in such a hurry to show off, he didn’t wipe his data,” Josef crowed.

I ended the call as a map loaded on Andre’s screen, no time to express any gratitude. I’d thank my extreme computer experts for their ultimate nerd skills later, when my wife was safe.

I didn’t have to ask Ivan if he was coming with me; he was already grabbing every gun he could get his hands on and ready to roll by the time I had the location info transferred to my phone. Within minutes, we were on the way, with Ivan driving at top speed while I desperately clung to hope that we weren’t too late.

“She’ll be fine,” he said, eyes glued to the road. “They’ll both be fine.”

He had to be right. He fucking had to be.

Chapter 39 - Olivia

If I thought I was scared before, I was wrong. I didn’t know what fear was until Rurik’s hands were wrapped around my throat, his eyes completely devoid of any human emotion. I believed I was going to die as I struggled to breathe around his vice grip, heartbroken that my last sight on earth was going to be this evil man’s hatred.

Not Dima. I’d never see Dima again. And that was a pain I wasn’t prepared for, almost surpassing my terror. But not the sadness. That remained when I opened my eyes again. My throat was raw, and my neck felt like it had been… well, choked by a crazed fiend. My hands were still firmly bound in front of me, but I slowly brought them up to rub the tender area, certain I’d be black and blue. If I lived long enough for the bruises to show up.

It didn’t seem like I was out too long this time, just a few minutes to recuperate and refill my lungs with air. I decided the best course of action was to not say anything else that might upset my captor, but the longer I lay there with my eyes closed, the angrier I got.

It felt good. Better than quaking with fear, anyway, and it dulled the sorrow I didn’t understand. Was I actually longing for Dima? And not just to rescue me, though I fervently wished he would, but because I just wanted to see his sky-blue eyes again. Hear his voice, even if what he was about to say would surely annoy me. Then we’d argue, then we’d make up…

I was delirious. It had to be that. I’d been dosed with chloroform, beaten, tied up, threatened, and now choked. Anyone would be trying to disconnect from that reality and trying to slip into a slightly better one.

I finally opened my eyes, unable to stand the suspense of not knowing where Rurik was. I could almost feel him looming over me, and my skin crawled, thinking he was about to lick me or something equally horrifying.

He sat on the worn armchair a few feet away, blocking the space between the bed and the wall. If I rolled over and tried to get off the bed the other way, he’d be on his feet before I hit the dirty carpet. I turned from my side where he’d left me in a heap and got propped up against the headboard again, feeling slightly less vulnerable when I was sitting up. It was a complete illusion. I was at his mercy, and he knew it, looking up from his phone to smirk.

Don’t antagonize him.

That was easier said than done, because hatred bubbled up inside me like acid, scorching my stomach and making the pain in my throat burn like hot coals. He didn’t seem that interested in torturing me again, either with threats or his fists, so things could have been worse.

It was bad enough, though, since he kept staring at me in between tapping out messages on his phone. I tried not to look away and show my fear, but I couldn’t meet those eyes.

If I didn’t know who he was and passed him on the street, I might have thought Rurik was handsome. Not in the stunning, disarming way that Dima was. Dima had a charm about him, and was so easygoing that it didn’t matter how gorgeous he was. Everyone ended up liking him because of that. His eyes were full of light and life and sometimes mischief.

Rurik’s had nothing behind them. It was like sitting three feet away from a shark. The blank emptiness made cold ripples run down my spine and damp, clammy sweat break out along my sides. Despite my vow to remain silent, I longed to ask what wasgoing to happen next. The suspense was going to kill me, even if his plan was to keep me alive a little bit longer.

“We’re waiting on my friend with a private jet,” he said when I couldn’t stop an impatient huffing sound. He lowered his phone and laughed. “You know him. He owed Dimitry a favor and flew both of you down here.”

“I guess he owed you a bigger favor,” I said. You really couldn’t trust anyone.

“That’s right,” he said. “And he knows who's going to be in charge soon enough.”

I couldn’t help it and rolled my eyes, clamping my mouth shut to keep from telling him it would be a cold day in hell before he brought down the Fokins. I was Dima’s favorite toy right now, but even if Rurik killed me, it wouldn’t destroy the entire family. Once they got their revenge, and they would, Dima would move on.

Wow, that hurt. It shouldn’t have, because I had been running, trying so hard to get away I’d walked right into this trap. And here I was, feeling morose at the thought of Dima forgetting all about me.

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