Page 73 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

I remember how rough he was with her when he caught her. It was over the top, aggressive and violent. The way he pinned her on the ground in the garden was inappropriate and now that I am thinking about it again—I have such a possessive rage burning through me—the idea of him on top of her like that—it makes me want to kill him.

I take another breath when he is out of my sight. Dammit, I need to calm down or I will never come up with a solution. But I do want to put a personal guard with her. The men outside the house are not enough. But there is only one man who I feel comfortable having around her.

Picking up my phone, I dial Dex.

I tell him he has been assigned to watch over Ruslana at the house and that he isn’t to let the other guards near her—he is in charge of her.

I trust him with my life—and with hers.

I can’t be near her if I want to think clearly—but at least I know with him there she will be safe. That gives me peace of mind.

Fucking Royce needs to stay away from her—and if he knows what’s good for him he should stay away from me too for the time being.

I don’t know if I’m overreacting because I’m stressed out about this situation—but there is something about that guy that has bothered me too many times now. Only when it comes to Ruslana. He is far too interested in her.

Finally, after pacing up and down my office until I feel like my head is going to explode—I pick up the phone and call her oldest brother. I can’t put it off anymore. I have to face this head on. There is no other way around it.

“Roda speaking,” his deep voice answers calmly.

“Rodion, it’s Avraam. I think you and I need to have a face-to-face conversation. It’s time for us to talk.” I keep my voice as even as I can.

“I think that’s in the best interest of everyone involved,” he agrees.

We decide on a location that is in neutral territory and choose a time in the day when the area will be relatively busy with other people.

Neither of us wants to cause a scene. Not in public.

I feel better now that the plan has been made.

This meeting is only for talking. We have things to discuss and after that—well—whatever happens happens.

It’s time to bring this entire thing to an end. I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t be stuck in the rift between losing her and putting my people in danger. I’m not that person—the irresponsible selfish asshole who only thinks of himself.

I need to find a solution that will work for everyone.

Now I just have to stay away from her until after the meeting so that I go into it with a completely clear mind and no distractions.

Chapter 22 - Ruslana

I can’t believe he has confined me to the mansion again. I’m so annoyed—and confused because he hasn’t really spoken to me that much since the night we spent on the yacht together—which was beautiful.

Why would he lock me up again and avoid me?

I knew I was stupid to be falling for him. Of course, he would just set me aside when it was all over because I don’t really mean anything to him. That night was fun. That’s all. Nothing more.

I swallow hard, not willing to let the lump in my throat turn into tears over a man who is willing to set me aside like a toy.

I really miss Avraam.

I miss the version of him that makes me smile. The one who gives me little butterfly pendants and says sweet things to me in the quiet moments when no one else is around. I also miss the man who gave me more freedom than this. That man just let me be myself—in all the colors without trying to hold me back. He didn’t try and restrict me or lock me up—why has it changed again so suddenly? Did something happen? How can I find out what’s going on if Avraam won’t even talk to me?

I huff loudly, trying to make sure that mypersonalsecurity guard knows how frustrated I am. Not only are there double the guards out in the garden—but now there is also a man inside the house following me from room to room. It’s making me a little crazy.

The doors are locked, I can’t even go out into the garden without twenty men looking at me, and he has his man, Dex, watching over me like I am about to try and fly out of a window.

Lying on the sofa with my legs draped over the back, I wiggle my toes up towards the ceiling. I’m bored out of my mind.

“Why are you here?” I sigh, asking him again, annoying the hell out of him. But when he answers I hear no annoyance in his voice at all. Just a calm, patient-friendly tone.

---