Page 7 of Stolen By The Bratva King

Bastard traffickers. The gall of these assholes, plying their trade in our harbors. Two of my men are dead, as well as five of theirs, and I called in my fixers to take care of the survivors.

Except one.

The kid hurled himself from the shadows, wrapping himself around his mother. It wasn’t enough; the stray bullet that went through him also pierced his mother’s abdomen, and she died in a matter of minutes, her arms wrapped around her little boy.

He fought me like a feral cat, sobbing and clawing at my face as I peeled his skinny arms from around his mom’s neck. I wrapped my shirt around him, hurled him into the passenger seat of my car, and came straight here.

Just thinking about it makes me sick. I’ve been there like that poor kid, and I can’t even claim to have been as brave. Maybe that’s why I brought him to the hospital instead of waiting around for our bratva’s medic.

Now, it’s Dr. Emery Bright’s job to fix him up, and I know she will. I saw how she moved: decisively, with purpose, applying her expertise without second-guessing herself. The quiet strength she showed in that small exam room was like nothing I’d seen before.

The cops aren’t a problem in the long run, with I can’t buy my way out of everything. An injured kid is terrible PR, as I know all too well.

“Shake down the usual snitches and see if you can dredge up some leads,” I say. “I’m not letting gang-bangers set up shop on my territory.”

“You got it.”

Viktor hangs up, and I sit back in the seat, running over the evening’s events.

I’m not the type to obsess over a woman, but something about Emery got under my skin.

She’s worn down, yet even with a scumbag like Dante at her side, she has a unique quality that I can’t shake.

She deserves better than that bastard, and I’ll be the one to help her break free. Or free ofhim, at least, which will have to do.

Emery isn’t just a sweet and innocent woman in need of saving. She has something I haven’t seen in a long time; vulnerability, yes, but also a flicker of spirit. That kind of fire is rare; I can’t let it go out.

I won’t just takeherfrom Dante. I’ll dismantle his existence until he has nothing left.

To the winner go the spoils, and I’m a man who gets what he wants, one way or another.

That beautiful angelwillbe mine.

6

One hour later…

Leon

Dammit.I need more than just one kiss.

I’m going insane. It’s the only plausible explanation for why I’m waiting in this damn parking lot like a fool, yearning for another glimpse of the woman who’s burned herself into my mind.

This isn’t me. I’ve never gotten so riled over a girl, not even after knowing her for a while. And I don’t know Emery, except for what I saw: a quietly strong woman, tempered by innocence, with a fierce intelligence and a good heart.

A heart that shouldn’t be anywhere near a scumbag like Dante Firenze.

I’m a bratva pakhan. Theboss, for fuck’s sake. If I wanted, I could demand Emery be brought to my penthouse, where I could ravage that gorgeous body day and night until I’d had my fill.

Instead, I’m here, waiting for her like some lovesick teenager, afraid to leave her to the mercy of whoever else might be keeping watch.

I’m stalking her, yes. But I need to know she’s safe, to see for myself that no one else has laid a finger on her.

Holy shit. There she is.

Emery crosses the lot briskly, and I see her click the button on her keys. A white BMW lights up, and I start my engine, falling in behind her vehicle as she heads for the exit.

In her rear window, there’s a sticker, a cartoon picture of a bowl of ramen with a smiley face and a wink. The caption reads, ‘I love noods.’

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