Page 39 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

“Who says you need a tongue to give me the information I need?” His gaze flicked to my hands, and I quickly hid them behind my back. “You can write; that is all I’ll need.”

My stomach churned, my throat burning with unshed tears.

He let go of my hair.

One of his men stepped forward and handed him a towel, and I cringed as he wiped his hand like I was carrying a deadly disease.

“Let’s make this easy for both of us, shall we?” he drawled, straightening up to his feet. “I only need one piece of information from you: Where is Tyfun-1?”

I scoffed. “Why would I tell you? I don’t even know who you are.

He tsked and shook his head. “Forgive my manners. I’m Gavril Lupescu.”

I spat at his feet. If I had to die, I would at least go out as a badass. I imagined Dad went out the same way, and it was the reason no one had been able to find the shipment.

“Your name is as disgusting as you are. I don’t have the information you need, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you where it is. What’s the assurance you won’t just kill me after I tell you?”

“Good point,” he drawled. “You’re a smart one. Now, depending on my mood, you may make it out alive. Refusing to tell me, on the other hand, will seal your faith completely, and it won’t be pretty.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Oh, trust me, you do.” His eyes glinted with something dark and evil. “Imagine your beloved mother crying her eyes out at your wake. She won’t even be able to hold an open-casketfuneral because of how bloody and damaged your body will look.”

Tears sprung to my eyes, my heart shattering as the mental image of my mother at my funeral flashed in my head. “Fuck you!”

“Wrong answer.” He sighed dramatically before signaling his men. “Take her.”

Two men stepped forward. They pulled me up from the ground and started dragging me to the SUV.

I struggled—kicking, fighting, clawing, and biting. It was all useless. They were too strong, and I was too weak.

They shoved me into the SUV and slammed the door shut behind me. The engine roared beneath me, and as the car lurched forward, the city faded behind us.

My mind raced.

I had no idea where they were taking me, and I knew it was impossible, but I hoped Andrei would save me.

***

The warehouse smelled of damp metal and gasoline. I had no idea where it was or how far we had driven, but I suspected it was on the outskirts of the city.

I was tied to a chair, my wrists bruised and hurting from the rough rope biting into my skin.

The dim lighting, along with the monster sitting across from me, made me feel like I was stuck in some sort of nightmare.

God, please let this be nothing but a bad dream.

Gavril paced in front of me. His tone shifted between amusement and rage, but the cold expression on his face remained constant.

“I’m asking one last time, Giselle. Where is Tyfun-1? I know your father hid it before he died, and you got his last message. Where is it?” he asked with a sharp tone.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “I don’t know. I really don’t know where he hid it. I didn’t know what Tyfun-1 was until after his death.”

He smirked, his eyes darkening with rage. “If you insist.” He held his hand out behind him, and one of his men stepped forward, handing him a shiny new blade. “You leave me no choice then.”

A shiver ran down my spine, and panic stole my breath as he rubbed the blade on his suit jacket.

If he was going to kill me, I hoped he would just go straight to it and spare me the torture, but men like Gavril wouldn’t just kill someone they considered an enemy. He was too much of a sadist. He’d torture me, make me beg, and then he’d leave me to rot to death.

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