Page 90 of Stolen By The Bratva King

Leon hit me before I had the chance to get my shit together.

And Emery. That fat bitch is undoubtedly safe in her luxury tower, far from my reach. Which is a shame because she’s the only means left to bring Leon to his knees.

I bring the binoculars to my eyes and torture myself with a front-seat view of my yacht as it sinks, the cold river extinguishing the flames, and it disappears below the surface.

Notably, no coastguard or police boats approach, and I’m wondering how much it costs to pay them off when a lightning bolt of inspiration nearly knocks me on my ass.

I may seem to be ruined, but Alexander the Great didn’t stop at the first city that defended itself. My investment was stolen, so I’m entitled to steal it back. An asset I can use to start again.

I take my phone from my pocket and dash off a text.

You found Fabrizio?

Dead already. The kid’s next. What gives?

Do I tell him?Fuck no.He’ll find out soon enough.

Change of plan. I’ll get Emery to go to work. Bring her and the kid alive.

That’s harder. Why?

I wanna spill the beans, but the less I say now, the better the whole story will go down later. I look like a fucking idiot thus far, so I’ll wait until the ball’s back in our court.

Explain later. You know where to take them.

47

Emery

Leon’s been gone for less than two hours, and I’m climbing the walls.

My guard, Felix, is apologetic about the whole thing. He’s not a natural jailer, and once I realized he wouldn’t go against Leon’s wishes and let me leave, I stopped antagonizing him.

He’s now stationed outside my apartment door, at my request, in case I need him to get something for me.

I’m not allowed to leave, even if Felix escorts me. There was an incident a few years ago where some mafia guy’s girlfriend went to get coffee and was abducted, so Leon doesn’t want to make the same mistake, and while I understand his concern, it doesn’t feel good.

This is the wrong kind of control, the kind Dante used to exert.

I’m a professional woman who has a job—a real vocation. I can’t drop my responsibilities to cater to the capricious whims of my bratva husband, a man who loves me but also courts danger every day of his life.

I’ll have it out with him when he gets back. Maybe, with this ordeal behind him, he’ll be able to see how unreasonable he’s being by locking me away like a fairytale princess.

I’m pondering ordering UberEats when my cell phone rings, sliding over the table as it vibrates. I snatch it up, hoping it’s Leon finally calling me back, but it’s Jess.

I slide the button to green. “Hey, I know you were expecting me, but?—”

“Emery, you have to come in.” Her voice is shaky, underpinned with genuine panic, and it silences me instantly. “Something has happened.”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re not sure. Sixteen trauma calls at once, and we’ve got them all.” She draws a deep breath. “Seven of them arekids, Em. Gunshot wounds, two near drownings. It’s carnage, and we’re struggling to scramble doctors.”

I swallow a nauseous belch of fear.

People shot, kids almost drowned? It can’t be a coincidence; life isn’t that cruel.

“Is Leon there?”

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