Page 7 of The Bratva's Virgin Bride

I swipe through and see that Martin has been thorough. I need to protect Riley from this Jimmy. As I reach the end of the photos, there's one of her with her eyes downcast. She's tryingso hard to hide from the world. It breaks my heart to see her looking so sad. I want to make her feel safe. I want her to feel like she can take on the world. I don't know if she was like that before all this happened, but from what Gwen has said, she was quite lively.

She used to like to go out and do things, but as far as I know, she goes to campus and back home and doesn't do anything else. I need to fix this situation. I look at Martin. “At least she'll be home this weekend with Roman and Gwen,” I say. “She'll have company and will be safe with the security there.”

“Security is lowered,” Martin says. “Some of the men went with Roman and Gwen on an impromptu holiday.” He looks at me seriously. “I can arrange more bodyguards to go over and keep an eye on her.”

“No, that'll draw attention to her. We can't let this Jimmy know we're onto him.”

Martin looks at me curiously. “What do you propose, then?”

I pace back and forth. I need a plan of action. Roman is always taking charge like Rigor and getting things done. I need to protect Riley. I pour myself a drink and sip it, trying to think of what I can do, but one persistent thought keeps surfacing. I need to make Riley a threat to Jimmy, someone he doesn't want to mess with. I need to diminish her appeal to him. Something that will cause him trouble and isn't worth the hassle. I need to send a clear and concise message to this little loser who’s clearly up to something.

I down my drink and grab my car keys. I push past Martin without giving him any further instructions. I take out my phone and send a text to my cousin. We start a brief chat as I head down to the car, which ends when I'm ready to drive. I needto go straight to Roman's mansion, where Riley will be. I know her classes end early today, so by the time I get through traffic, she should already be there. Curse Roman for going away. I try calling him, but it goes straight to voicemail. He must be flying, and his phone is on airplane mode. I try Gwen, but the result is the same. It solidifies my decision—I need to protect Riley, and this is the best way to do it. As I pull into the estate grounds, I see Riley's car parked in her usual spot, and I smile.

Chapter 4 - Riley

It's that feeling of being trapped that gets my heart racing. I know it's a dream, but I can't wake myself from it, and it's mostly the same every time.

First, I'm getting ready with Gwen, and we're talking and having a great time, getting hyped up like we did that night. It was her idea to sneak into a casino and gamble, and I was totally on board. I should have been studying again, and I open my mouth to tell her that, but no words come out. Instead, I drink, the bitter taste of wine burning down my throat. My heart is already racing because I know what’s coming, and I don't want it to. Our surroundings are hazy. I know we're supposed to be in our dorm room, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels surreal. There are dark, menacing corners where people could be hiding, but deep down, I know they won’t attack us here.

Then we're in the car, and Gwen is driving—only she's not. She's drinking, and the car seems to take over and drive itself. The landscape speeds by in a blur, and although I should recognize these streets, I don't. They're passing by too quickly. I just see streaks of lights out the window.

I open my mouth to say something, but I just drink instead. Maybe this is how I blame myself. I wanted to party; I chose to party, and that's how I ended up where I ended up in that room. But I'm getting ahead of myself and the dream won't allow that, even though I know how it goes. I'm forced into the moment and we're getting dropped off at Roman's casino. A flash of our fake IDs and we're in, heading toward the cocktail bar for more drinks. This is where everything gets fuzzy. I can't make out the faces of the people around us, even though we're surrounded by them. There's noise, but it isn't clear, there's no distinct talking. Gwen is pulling on my arm, pushing me towardthe slot machines. She's talking, but I can't hear her. It's as though I can't make out the finer details of the casino, like I need glasses. Nothing is crisp and sharp.

Then, like a shining guardian angel in the night, I see Roman descending the stairs. The crowd easily parts for him and Gwen's face breaks into a magical smile. It's that loving smile she gives him now. They're meant to be together. She leaves me even though I want to stop her. I'm left standing alone. That's not exactly how it happened that night, but that's how it feels. People move around me and I'm rooted to the spot, unable to move as Gwen goes to Roman and they kiss. It's a slow, passionate kiss, clear in my mind's eye.

Then there's a commotion, and people are screaming. There are gunshots and explosions and everything is exaggerated. I want to wake up. I want to wake up before this part happens because it's always terrible. But I never wake up in time. It never happens that way. Suddenly, I'm jerked off my feet and thrown over someone's shoulder, being carried away from Gwen. I try to scream, but I still can't make any sound. Gwen stands there in Roman's arms watching, safe. I know in reality she had panicked, but now she was cool as a cucumber. This is just what happened.

I'm thrown into the back of a blacked-out van. Men climb into the van with me. So many of them it feels like there's no space to breathe. They duct tape my ankles together, then my wrists. I'm crying as they put duct tape over my mouth and then a hood over my head. It's terrifying. Then it feels as though I'm having an out-of-body experience. I can see myself in the corner of the fan, restrained and covered with the hood and surrounded by men. Their faces are clear. I remember them as though I'm still there right now.

I can hear them talk. They are clear as day. Unlike the mingling crowd at the casino, and despite the hood over my head, I hear them plotting my rape and death. I hear them discuss in detail how they're going to use and abuse me. They never did when it really happened, but this isn't reality. Nightmares are far worse. They reach over and stroke my arm and chuckle to themselves about how pretty I am and how they're going to enjoy having me.

I will myself to wake up, but it's as though I have no control. The nightmares always seem so real, as though I'm back in that van. Back with my captors. I try to tell myself I'm safe, but the rising panic has me feeling like I'm going to throw up. Their hands reach out to strike me and my head jolts left, then right. I can taste the blood in my mouth. The van stops and I'm dragged out. I'm trying to scream, but there's nothing I can do. I'm helpless. I feel like no one is going to save me and that's how I felt. I felt as though my time was up, that it was just a matter of hours before someone put a bullet in my brain or slit my throat. That's what mobsters do, after all.

They tie me to the chair and one voice clearly rings out. “You're stuck here forever.”

That's when I hear the door close, and I sit up in bed, crying out. The sweat is dripping off my body and the tears are streaming down my face. It had felt so real. It had been real. It had been a recurring nightmare since I was rescued. And that voice, my captor's voice, was seared into my brain. It's dark in my room, except for the moonlight streaming through the open window. I don't like being in closed-off rooms anymore. I need the fresh air. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself, but before I can calm my racing heart, the door slams open and I shriek. Viktor storms in, looking wild.

“Are you okay?” he asks me worriedly.

“What are you doing here?” I demand to know, pulling the duvet up to cover my body.

“Are you okay? Did someone try to hurt you?” he asks, marching around the room and looking out the open window. He stands there staring out into the dark for what feels like forever. He shuts the window and I want to ask him to open it again, but I don't. I can't let people know how badly I am affected.

“No, I'm fine. You just scared me.” I run a hand over my hair. I scoot up to the edge of the bed and swing my legs over.

“You cried out before I came in,” he points out. “I thought someone was in here with you.” He turns to face me.

“Well, there isn't anyone,” I snap.

“Clearly,” he says. He paces up and down. “Get up. We need to go.”

“What do you mean, we need to go?” I ask. My heart is still racing and I can feel it in my throat. I am glued to the spot and staring at him.

He reaches over and grabs my arm, dragging me off of the bed. “Come on, move it.”

“Viktor,” I say, resisting the urge to slap him. I try to pull away from him, but his grip on me is tight. He must have come to check on the property while Roman and Gwen are away but heard me cry out. I don't know why he thinks he needs to drag me out of bed, but I shiver as the frosty night air hits where my skin is bare. I suddenly feel very vulnerable in my pajamas. He starts talking quickly, and I find it difficult to follow along as he rambles.

“Listen, you're not safe here. We need to move you to another location. You need to come with me immediately.”

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