Page 8 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

She’s that confident.

That self assured.

She’s dropped her parcels somewhere and moving more freely, unencumbered by the shopping bags.

She’s realized just how serious this is and the chase is on now.

She knows she’s in trouble, there is no more subtle play.

She’s running for her life.

But still choosing to be cheeky.

I chuckle as I bolt after her. She just made me want her even more.

As I run, I wave my hand in the air to signal to the driver to stay closer to me. Once I have her, I have to get her into that SUV as quickly as possible.

Ruslana appears to know this place well. She is choosing a route that, so far, has kept her safe and blocked me off on a number of occasions. But what she doesn’t know is that I grew up not too far from this district and my sister and I used to play around this area a lot when we were young.

There is a dead end coming up. An alley that leads to nowhere.

All I have to do is lure her intothatstreet and the rest will be easy.

“What the fuck?”

I freeze, looking left and right up the street as I round a corner. She’s gone. It’s like she’s vanished into thin air. I look up, half expecting her to be hanging from a drain pipe, trying to climb onto a roof. But I don’t see her. She’s gone.

How can that be?

There is only one road, there is nowhere she could have—

I hear a sharp shout of alarm. Someone caught by surprise.

“Get out of here!”

“Tommy, Tommy, call the police.”

Of course.

I chuckle.

Shit, she’s good.

She’s slipped into the open door of someone’s ground-floor apartment. They must have had a good fright when a gorgeous girl suddenly ran through their living room.

I run around the back of the apartment, knowing she is heading through the place and planning to escape out the rear exit. Pity the tenant gave her up with their noisy outburst.

She comes tiptoeing from the door, looking to her left—and then to her right—directly into my eyes. I’m grinning and she’s frozen like a deer in the headlights.

She opens her mouth to scream, but I grab her, spinning her around and pressing her back to my chest—I clamp my hand over her mouth.

She kicks and squirms and claws at me—silently.

I hold my position, blocking her air, she can only fight for so long without oxygen. My eyes are darting around me. I don’t need those tenants stepping out back and seeing me. No witnesses. It will be too dangerous for me. And the last thing I want to do is have to take them out.

“Stop fighting, it will be over quickly,” I sigh softly.

She kicks one last time, desperate to get away, but it’s useless.

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