Page 15 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

At least he caught her.

I almost lost her.

She is so much more resourceful and so much smarter than I thought.

I can’t believe she managed to pick the bedroom lock. How the hell did she even do that? I suppress the smile that wants to spread across my face because I am impressed by her yet again.

My eyes graze over her body.

She has her legs curled against her chest and tears spilling down her cheeks, wetting her thick dark eyelashes. The tears make her eyes glitter.

Her tears bother me. The fact that she is this scared bothers me. I want to comfort her. I have a deep need to reassure her that no one will hurt her.

I want to protect her—from what though—from myself?

Why the fuck am I wanting to protect her now? She is just a tool.

I clench my jaw.

My fists are also clenched tightly at my side.

Turning my back on her for a moment, I try to pull my thoughts together.

She is just a tool.Nothing more. She is not someone I care about.She is a means to an end. I should not even be considering her emotions.

Fuck. What is wrong with me?

I turn back to look at her. Ensuring my face is blank and emotionless, not hinting at anything going on inside my thoughts.

“Do not try to escape again,” I say sternly.

Her eyes flash wide. She tilts her chin up, her mouth tight, her expression one of pure defiance. I admire her ability to show strength when she is clearly terrified.

“Let me go and you can have whatever you want. Money? Business? What did you take me for? What are you going to ask for?” she says, clear and crisp. Her voice not trembling at all.

I tilt my head, a smile of amusement on my lips.

“Anything I want? And you have the power to make that happen—little butterfly? Colorful and bright, the social queen with all the power in the world.” I taunt her—acting as though she is the one in control in this conversation.

“My brothers are very powerful.”

“I know who your brothers are, Ruslana Kuznetsov,” I say and watch her expression change for a brief moment, giving away her feeling of surprise, which she quickly hides again.

“If you know who my brothers are—then you know that they will come after you,” she snaps back.

“They can try,” I shrug, folding my arms across my chest. “You’ve seen my security, well, a portion of it. There is more where that came from. I doubt your brothers even know where you are anyway.”

I walk around the bed to the other side and she shifts across it, away from me again. This game is amusing to me, I like interacting with her when she isn’t scratching and clawing at my face.

“Who are you?” she demands. Her eyes tracing up and down my body.

Should I tell her? It doesn't make any difference. She can’t get out of here. It’s not like she can contact anyone outside.

“My name is Avraam and all you need to know about me is that you are my prisoner. And I am the one who has you captive.”

She bites her bottom lip, deep in thought as she stares at me through narrowed eyes.

“Avraam,” she says, after a moment, slowly stretching her legs out in front of herself, relaxing her body. “What is your surname?”

---