Page 43 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

Gavril’s body parts decorated the floor—teeth, fingers, one of his ears, and one of his big toes.

His whimpers were weaker now as he dangled between consciousness and death. His head hung low, his suit was soaked in his blood, and his body was barely holding onto life.

Even now, I hadn’t gotten the satisfaction I needed. The rage inside me demanded more pieces of him, but he was closeto giving up the ghost, and death was a mercy—one he didn’t deserve.

Throwing him in a gutter and leaving him to die made more sense.

“What should we do with him, sir?” Dimitri asked.

I glared at the half-dead in front of me. “Dispose him,” I ordered. “He’ll be a waste as a prisoner.”

Dimitri nodded.

I rolled down my sleeves and threw on my suit jacket to hide the splatters of blood. Giselle would be shaken if she saw them, and after everything she’d been through, the last thing I wanted was to traumatize her further.

Drawing in an even breath, I turned toward the door where Giselle was meant to be but froze when her emerald eyes met mine.

They were wide with horror and disbelief, and her face had paled with fear.

I glanced at Dobryn, and he shook his head, his way of telling me she hadn’t seen anything. She hadn’t watched me pull out Gavril’s teeth or chop off his fingers and toes, but that didn’t bring me the relief I needed.

Because she’d heard it all.

She’d heard his screams and whispers, heard me laugh as I executed the torture, heard my threats.

For the first time, I saw something in her eyes that wasn’t hatred or desire. She was afraid of me.

I approached her and reached for her arm, but her breath hitched, and she flinched away. Her lips trembled, and her gaze bounced between my face and my hand.

“Are you afraid of me?”

She swallowed and lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Look at me, Giselle,” I ordered.

She obeyed; her eyes bore into mine.

“Are you afraid of me?” I repeated, holding her gaze. “Do you hate me for torturing the bastard who laid his hands on you?”

She shook her head.

“I want to hear you say it,solnishko. I want to hear you say you’re not afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she answered. “But…what you did to that man, you enjoyed it, didn’t you? I heard you laugh.”

“Dah.”I stepped closer, caging her against the wall. “I’d kill a thousand more men if they hurt you,solnishko. I’d burn the world down to keep you safe.”

And I meant every word I said.

“Why?” Her lashes fluttered, her breath shaky. “Why would you go that far for me?”

Because she was the one person I would risk everything for. She was the only person I would never hurt, even if she buried a knife in my chest.

I hadn’t realized how much she meant to be until I saw her bound in that chair, bruised and afraid. I hadn’t known how far I was willing to go for her until I felt the rage in my chest as I watched that bastard leaning over her and smirking in her face.

That was when I knew I’d ride to hell and back for this delicate flower.

She wasn’t just a pawn in my game, not anymore. She was more precious to me than anything else—an obsession, perhaps. Property.

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