Page 38 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

I would rather sleep on the streets of New York City than return to Andrei’s mansion.

The cold air cut through my skin like blades. I was still wearing the shorts and shirt I’d worn earlier today, but they barely protected me from the cold.

The city blurred around me—dark alleys, flickering streetlights, shadows stretching across the cracked pavement. I had no destination, yet only one thought kept me from breaking down.

Freedom.

I was free from Andrei now. Free to live however I wanted.

As long as I was free from him, I could stay at Hazel’s place until I got a job and a new apartment. The only problem was my battery was dead, I didn’t have her number off-hand, and I didn’t have transport money to make it to her place.

I was basically stranded.

I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm from the cold. I just had to make it through tonight. Everything was going to be better tomorrow.

A burst of blinding headlight flashed in my direction, and I heard the screeches of tires as a model of car I couldn’t quite see came to a halt beside me.

Raising a hand to block out some of the light and narrowing my eyes to see who it was, my heart stopped.

Men in suits similar to the ones I’d seen in front of my apartment slipped out of the car.

Alarm bells went off in my head. The danger signs were glaring, and I couldn’t waste a moment. I jumped to my feet and made a run for it.

A black SUV skidded to a stop in front of me, blocking my path. More men in black suits poured out of the SUV and joined the race.

My heart hammered in my throat as I realized that these weren’t Andrei’s men. They weren’t Russian. They were from one of those mafia families he’d warned me about,

I turned the other way, running as fast as my tired legs could carry me, but I only made it so far when a third car drove toward me at high speed, only stopping when it came in close contact with me.

My blood turned to ice, and my pulse spiked. I collapsed on the floor, panting for breath.

This was it; I was going to die tonight. No one was going to save me.

Andrei had no clue where I was, so he couldn’t find me. No one could.

A man in his late fifties stepped out from the third car, grinning with sick amusement as he prowled toward me.

I stumbled back, my body coiling with fear.

I hated him instantly. I despised the awkward twisting of his lips as he grinned and the scar across his forehead.

“Well, well,” he drawled as he closed the distance between us. “Looks like I just found myself a prize.”

He had a slight Romanian accent. Was he from the Romanian syndicate? They weren’t as infamous as the Italians and the Bratva, but they were well known for their heavy involvement in child and women trafficking, drug trafficking, fraud, and whatever else I was too scared to think of.

Cold sweat slicked down my skin, and my breath caught in my throat. “Who the hell are you?”

He winched and clutched his chest dramatically. “You’re hurting my feelings,fata,”he sneered. “Too bad you haven’t heard of me when I know so much about you.”

“What do you want?”

His grin eased into a wicked smile. “Now that’s a smart question, little one.” He stretched his hand out to touch my face, but I pulled away and glared at his hand.

“Don’t touch me, you fucking pig!”

He laughed maniacally and leaned in. Suddenly, he grabbed my hair and yanked it back, sending a jolt of pain down my spine and forcing me to confront his soulless eyes. “I’m a very patient man, little one, but the next time you move your tongue so freely will be the last time you have one.”

I chuckled despite the pain and fear I felt. “You think I don’t know what you want? You can’t get it out of me if I don’t have a tongue.”

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