Page 24 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

“I have a message for your boss.”

He remains silent, his body tense as he sits on the floor where we left him—I have his attention, though.

“Tell the Kuznetsovs that only those who belong are welcome.”

He doesn’t respond. “Nod if you got that.”

One nod.

Good.

I stare at the three men. They are lucky today. They will keep their lives. I know many in my world who would not even dream of showing what they believe is a weakness like that. But these men don’t need to die for me to get my message across—or for me to damage the flow of the Kuznetsov business. The products they lost in our attack today are going to cause far more issues than a few dead security guards.

“Move out!”

I shout to my men as I walk out of the office and back into the warehouse.

I’m thinking of her again as we jog back to the car and climb inside.

I’m thinking of her and I don’t want to be.

We drive home, my men chatting in the back while I stare silently out of the window, watching the city drift past me. It wasn’t my plan to keep her a secret. But any other move will risk me losing her.

Why do I care if I lose her? The only purpose she serves is to upset the Kuznetsov family with her disappearance, stressing them out. My original plan was to use her as a bargaining tool, but now that has to change, because I don’t want to lose her.

But why?

She is only a pawn.

A pawn in a bigger game.Nothingbut a pawn.

You only hold onto the queen. The pawns are disposable.

I sigh, clenching my jaw, watching the buildings and people.

When we get home, I head straight to my room to shower and change.

I haven’t seen Ruslana all day, but that night I still sleep in her bed, for the sole purpose of watching over her. I force myself not to speak to her because every interaction with this girl is a risk.

I can’t have her finding out anything else about me and using it against me. I can’t have her manipulating me and escaping.

She talks to me, trying to start conversation and I bite my tongue to avoid replying.

It’s getting more difficult, though. With each night that passes.

Tonight, I am in a foul mood after a long day and she seems just as edgy as I am.

“Why don’t you just kill me instead of torturing me with silence and isolation?” she snaps as I climb into the bed next to her.

“Be quiet, Ruslana. Go to sleep.”

“Sleep? Are you joking? All I do all day is lie here and drift in and out of sleep because there is literally nothing else to do. I am going insane. And then you walk into the room at night and you can’t even be bothered to speak to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you. You are a prisoner. Nothing more.”

“I will kill myself if you keep forcing me to sit day by day—bored out of my skull.”

“Oh please, just go to sleep. I’m too tired for your bullshit.”

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