Page 54 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

"Now," Mr. Petrov leans forward, "tell me about your vision for expansion."

I launch into my well-rehearsed pitch, words tumbling out in my enthusiasm. "I've always dreamed of a store that fits the wearer, and not the other way around…"

But as I speak, something in Mr. Petrov’s demeanor shifts. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and they keep darting around the store as if looking for something.

"That all sounds… quaint," he interrupts, his tone dismissive. "But let's discuss more… practical matters. Your husband's operations, for instance."

I blink, caught off guard. Denis’s warnings come to mind.We have enemies everywhere.How does he know I’m married? Suddenly, the world around me closes in. I look out the window, seeing the street nearly empty, and try to buy myself some time.

"I'm sorry, but this meeting is about my boutique, not my husband's affairs,” I manage to say.

Natalia. Think. How can I get him out of here?

The man’s smile turns predatory. "Come now, Ms. Orlov or shall I say, Mrs. Zolotov. Surely you understand that everything is connected in our world."

A chill runs down my spine. This isn't right. This isn't about my store at all.

"I think perhaps we've had a misunderstanding," I say, standing on trembling legs as I motion to the door. "Maybe we should reschedule when we're both on the same page about the purpose of this meeting."

His eyes narrow, and all I see is danger. "I don't think that will be necessary, Mrs. Zolotov. We're just getting to the good part."

My mind races. How do I get out of this? Where are Denis's guards when I actually need them? I try to keep my voice light, but inside, I'm screaming at myself to end this now.

I plaster on my brightest smile, hoping it masks the trembling I feel inside. "Mr. Petrov, it's been lovely chatting, but I'm afraid I have another engagement I completely forgot about. Myclientswill be coming anytime now," I stand up, smoothing my skirt with shaky hands. "Perhaps we can reschedule for next week?"

Maybe if he thinks there’ll be people coming, he’ll leave in fear of getting caught.

His eyes narrow, and I feel a chill race down my spine. Something's very wrong here.

"I don't think so, Mrs. Zolotov," he says, his voice suddenly cold and hard. "We're not finished here. Your husband and his brothers entered my warehouse and stole my workers."

Suddenly, a memory rushes back. Denis coming home, all bruised and bloodied. Later, I discovered the truth. He was helping slaves escape from bonded labor from a rival group.

This man has to be talking about that incident. He’s a rival.

Before I can react, he lunges forward, grabbing my arm with bruising force. I yelp in shock and pain as he starts dragging me toward the door.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" I cry out, struggling against his iron grip. My heart pounds frantically in my chest, and fear floods my system.

"You're coming with me," he snarls, his earlier charm completely evaporated. "Your husband needs to learn a lesson about not taking what’s his."

I dig my heels in, trying to slow our progress. "You're insane! Help!" I scream, hoping someone, anyone, will hear me.

Mr. Petrov's fingers dig deeper into my arm. "Scream all you want, little bird. No one's coming to save you."

Panic rises in my throat as I realize how terribly wrong I was about everything. Denis was right. I should have listened. Oh God, what have I done?

Suddenly, the door bursts open with a thunderous crash. One of Denis's guards rushes in, his weapon drawn. "Let her go!" he barks, aiming at the rival.

Relief washes over me. Thank God Denis didn’t pull out all the guards. But the relief is short-lived.

The man yanks me closer, using me as a shield. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he sneers. "Your boss stole our workers. We're just here to collect what's owed."

My mind reels. Workers? What is he talking about? Is he truly that delusional?Those people were slaves.

"Tell Zolotov we want our people back," the man continues, his grip tightening. "Or his pretty little wife pays the price."

The guard's eyes flick to mine, uncertainty clouding his features. I can see him weighing his options, trying to figure out how to protect me without risking my life.

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