Page 49 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

He doesn't answer immediately, and I follow his gaze, trying to spot what's caught his attention. My stubborn streak kicks in, and I press further. "Come on, spill. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Denis's voice is low and tense when he finally speaks. "Not a ghost, Natalia. Something far more dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I echo, my curiosity piqued despite the seriousness in his tone. "What do you mean?"

He leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. "See those men by the bar? In the dark suits?"

I crane my neck, spotting a group of stern-faced men in impeccably tailored outfits. "Yeah, what about them?"

"They're part of a rival organization, the ones whose imprisoned workers we rescued," Denis explains, his voice barely above a whisper. "Their presence here is… unexpected. And concerning."

My eyes widen as the implications sink in. "Wait, you mean like… rival Bratva?" The words tumble out before I can stop them.

Denis's grip on my arm tightens slightly. "I need you to listen carefully, Natalia. We're in danger. Those men? They'd love nothing more than to hurt us tonight. They’re not here without reason."

A shiver runs down my spine, but I steel myself, meeting Denis's intense gaze. "Okay," I say, surprised by the steadiness in my own voice. "What do we do?"

Denis's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me through the crowded event space. "We need to leave. Now," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

I nod, trying to match his casual stride as we weave quickly between chattering guests. "Did you call the car?" I ask, my eyes darting around the room.

"No time. They’re parked ten minutes away. This venue had no parking. We’re going to seek safety on foot," Denis replies, his fingers pressing more firmly against my back. "Act natural, but keep moving."

My heart pounds as I force a smile, nodding to a few familiar faces we pass. "This is my natural 'fleeing from danger' walk," I quip, aiming for lightness despite the tension coiling in my stomach.

A ghost of a smile flickers across Denis's face. "You're doing great, Firecracker," he reassures me, using the pet name that always makes my insides melt.

We're halfway to the exit when I feel Denis stiffen beside me. "Don't look back," he warns, increasing our pace. "They've spotted us trying to leave."

Adrenaline surges through me as we burst through the doors onto the busy street. Denis's hand clasps mine, firm and reassuring. "Stay close," he orders, pulling me into a run.

We dash down the sidewalk, weaving between startled pedestrians. My shorter legs struggle to keep up with Denis's long strides, but fear propels me forward. "Where are we going?" I gasp, my lungs burning.

"Somewhere safe," Denis replies tersely, yanking me around a sharp corner. The sound of heavy footsteps behind us grows louder.

My heart hammers against my ribs as we dodge past a street vendor, nearly upending a cart of flowers. "Sorry!" I call out instinctively, earning a squeeze from Denis's hand.

"Run faster," he grunts, pulling me into a narrow alley. The brick walls on either side of us blur as we race through, emerging onto another bustling street.

I chance a glance over my shoulder, catching sight of our pursuers. Their dark suits stand out ominously against the colorful crowd. "They're still coming," I pant, gripping Denis's hand tighter.

My legs burn with exertion, but I grit my teeth and push harder. I won't be the reason we get caught. "I can keep up," I assure Denis, matching his pace stride for stride. My curvy figure might not scream 'athlete,' but there's a fierce determination coursing through my veins.

"That's my girl," Denis murmurs, his gray-green eyes flashing with pride as we navigate the chaotic streets.

We dash across a busy intersection, horns blaring as cars screech to a halt. "Sorry!" I can't help but yell, my ingrained politeness battling with our dire situation.

Denis tugs me down another alley, this one darker and narrower. "In here," he whispers urgently, pulling me through a hidden doorway.

We tumble into a dimly lit space, the musty smell of disuse filling my nose. Denis quickly shuts and bolts the door behind us. For a moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing.

"Where are we?" I ask between gasps, my hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath.

"Old safehouse. We’ve got them sprinkled across the city," Denis replies, his tall frame still tense as he listens for any signs of pursuit. "We should be okay here for now."

As the adrenaline begins to ebb, relief washes over me in waves. I sink to the floor, my back against the wall. "That was… intense," I manage, a slightly hysterical giggle escaping my lips.

Denis crouches beside me, his large hand cupping my cheek. "You did well, Natalia. Are you hurt?"

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