Page 78 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

These are brutal men—all they seem to understand is violence.

It doesn’t matter if their victims are innocent or not. They don’t care.

I shift onto my back and glare up at Rodion. His eyes are flooded with hate as he stares back at me.

Rigor, second in charge, moves to stand at Rodion’s side.

Of all the brothers he seems the least stable.

“Let me kill this fucker,” he growls. His fists clench and unclench in anger.

“We need him to find Ruslana, Rigor,” Rodion sighs.

“I don’t fucking care. I will tear him to pieces for what he did to her. We will find another way to get her back.”

Rodion grabs the collar of his brother’s shirt. “You will do no such thing. Our sister’s safety is our only priority here—when we have her back home you can do whatever you want to his asshole.”

Rigor turns towards me and in a fit of rage and frustration, he flies at me. His fist slams into my face and he grabs me around the throat, hissing at me about how I killed his men.

“All of them, their deaths are on your hands. You fucked up our shipment and killed those men for no fucking reason you sick fuck.”

He throws me backwards and I shake my head in confusion.

“What shipment?” I ask, mumbling, wiping my hand across my face and looking down at the blood smeared across it. “What men?”

“Don’t act stupid, Avraam,” Rodion spits. “You know what you did.”

“I know I tampered with the products in your warehouse. I did that. But I left those three guards alive. I did not kill anyone. Not a single man.” I shake my head, trying to stand up.

Rigor steps forward and kicks me hard.

“Liar,” he snaps.

“Fuck off, asshole. I’m telling you I didn’t do it!” I shout. “You are the fuckers who killed my men for no reason. You are the heartless, cold, calculated fuckers who walked into my operation and killed people without hesitation. Don’t try and turn this on me.”

Rodion turns towards his brothers. “What the hell is he talking about? Did you do something without me knowing?” he snarls at them.

“No.” The general response from each of them is the same. He turns to Rigor who seems the most agitated by his sister's disappearance. “Rigor—did you do something?”

“I didn’t fucking do anything,” he huffs.

I watch each of their faces, reading their body language and taking note of the confusion settling over them.

What the fuck is going on?

I know I didn’t kill their men—and they are confused when I accuse them of killing mine.

What—the—fuck—is—going—on?

I push myself up to my feet, no one kicks me back down or takes a swing at me.

Staggering for a moment, I press my fingers against my eyes.

“You didn’t attack my men—did you?” I ask after a moment.

“How many times do I have to fucking spell it out for you?” Rigor snaps. Rodion grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him away from me before he can punch me again.

“Why are you so convinced we killed your men, Avraam?” Rodion asks.

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