Page 48 of The Bratva's Virgin Bride

“Okay,” I say quietly. “What do I do?”

“Well, the most obvious one is if you can and it's a guy, kick them in the groin.”

I look at his groin and he puts his hands over it. “We're not going to practice that one. But it's an obvious one. It will buy you a few minutes.”

“Where else?” I ask.

“The jaw is a tough target, but if you can connect there, it will disable them. However, you risk injuring your hand.” He touches his forehead. “Striking someone in the forehead or temple can incapacitate them, but you'd need to hit them pretty hard. The best way to hit is with your elbow. It's extremely solid and will do some damage.”

“Hit with the elbow, got it,” I say, bouncing up and down. “What one can I practice with you?”

“Sternum,” he points to it. “You'll knock the breath out of me. I'm going to grab you from behind and you're going to fight to get your elbow to slam into my sternum. Okay?”

I nod and turn around. “Ready.”

Suddenly, his arms are around me, and for a moment, I panic because he's holding me so tightly. I don't think I can break free, and I start wiggling. He keeps holding on, and I continue trying to escape. He grips me tightly, and I quickly become breathless.

“Come on, Riley. Use everything you have to get out of my grasp.”

I pant slightly, then I have an idea. I lift my foot and slam it onto his. He cries out and his grip loosens on me. I slam my elbow back into his sternum and he drops down, gasping for air. I turn around and kneel by him. “I'm so sorry.”

“Why?” he gasps out. “You did it.”

“I know, but I hurt you,” I say, rubbing his chest.

“I'll be okay in a minute,” he says, breathing hard. “Well done. Now repeat, the pressure points to me.”

“Groin, forehead, temple, jaw, and sternum.”

“Good girl,” I help him to his feet and he smiles down at me. “That's enough for one day.” He looks at his watch. “It's time for breakfast, anyway.”

He takes his gun in one hand and my hand in the other, and we walk back toward the house. He leaves me to put his gun away while I go to the dining room and sit down. Rachel brings out our breakfast plates and sets them in front of us.

Viktor comes back and sits down, and we start to eat. He still seems a little breathless and I feel a little bad for hurting him. “Are we going to carry on practicing?”

“Not today,” he says after swallowing. “But tomorrow perhaps.”

“Shooting and pressure points?” I ask.

“Of course, and some flips and other self-defense moves.” He sips his coffee.

“Thank you for teaching me this. After what the Vultures did to me, I didn't think I'd ever feel like I would have control again.”

“Do you want to talk about?” he asks.

I nod and he looks surprised. “It was horrible. No food. They sometimes gave me water. But the threats. There was one guy in particular. I'm sure it's the one that's after me. He kept telling me what he was going to do to me. Grope me. Rape me. Force me to perform oral sex on him.” I cast my eyes down. “The waiting was the hardest. Waiting for something bad to happen and not knowing what to expect.”

“That must have been really hard,” Viktor says gently, reaching for my hand.

I squeeze his hand and let go, picking up my coffee and sipping it. “He got a little too close for comfort.”

“If I ever get my hands on any of them, I will torture them one by one and then kill them for you.” He looks so serious that I can't help but smile.

“Your constant patience, support, and teaching me self-defense have been so helpful for me moving on. You deserve a reward.”

I smile and look around. There's a guard outside the room, so I get up and shut the dining room door. I then go back to the table while Viktor watches me curiously. “What are you doing?”

“I want some privacy,” I say. I kick off my shoes under the table and wait until Viktor is eating again. I turn in my chair to face him and slide my leg forward. I slide my foot up his leg and he looks up at me with wide eyes. I pass his knee and I lean forward to slide down his thigh. My foot meets his crotch and I rub my foot up and down slowly.

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