Page 82 of Used Bratva Bride

My grip on the phone tightens. “Speak.”

“It’s Julie. She’s… missing.”

The words hit me like a gunshot.

I sit up straighter, the slow burn of rage that had been simmering in my chest now igniting into a full-blown inferno. “What the fuck do you mean, missing?”

The man on the other end stammers, “W-we don’t know exactly. The guards outside the estate saw nothing, but she’s not in her room, and the cameras didn’t catch anything—”

I don’t hear the rest. I’m already on my feet, grabbing my coat.

Julie is gone. Someone is going to pay for it.

Chapter Twenty-Two - Julie

I grip the USB so tightly that the edges press into my palm. My heart is still pounding from the escape, from the weight of what I’ve just done. But there’s no turning back now.

The car pulls up to the grand Spade estate, and I barely get a second to breathe before the front doors swing open. Two guards step forward, their expressions unreadable as they escort me from the car.

“Julie?” My father’s voice.

James Spade steps into the dim glow of the entrance, sharp eyes narrowing the second they land on me. Sophia follows a few paces behind, arms crossed, expression stoic.

I swallow, lifting my chin. “Hi, Dad. Miss me?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just looks me over like he’s assessing damage. His silence is more infuriating than anything else.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he finally says.

That’s it? Not where have you been? Not are you okay?

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Wow. Not even a glad you’re alive?”

Sophia steps forward, her gaze flicking over me carefully. “You took a big risk coming here.”

I meet her eyes. “I had to.”

She watches me, waiting for more.

Dad watches our exchange, jaw clenching. “Do you understand what you’ve just done?”

My grip on the USB in my pocket tightens. “No, you have no idea what you’ve done. You gave me to him. You let this happen. And now you’re acting like I’m the problem?”

Sophia sighs, rubbing her temple. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

I hesitate only a second before stepping through the doors. The moment I do, I feel it—this house, this family, it doesn’t feel like home.

Maybe it never did.

Dad watches me with that same calculating look he always has, like I’m an asset to be measured.

“I assume you understand what happens next,” he says.

I cross my arms. “I didn’t come here for a lecture.”

Sophia leans against the table. “You’re sure you got everything?”

I nod. “Mikhail left his office unattended for a few minutes. I used what you taught me.”

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