Page 56 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

But then I picture a future where Natalia is hurt. My fists clench at my sides.

No. I can't sit idle while she might be in danger. I grab my jacket, decision made. Consequences be damned. If she’ll be angry at my interference, so be it. Better she be pissed than hurt.

"Cancel my afternoon meetings," I bark at my assistant as I stride past. "I have an urgent matter to attend to."

***

I grip the steering wheel tight, my knuckles turning white as I weave through traffic. The city blurs past. My mind races. What's happening at the store? Is Natalia okay? My heart pounds. I can't lose her.

I call the guard for an update. No response.

Red light. I slam the brakes. Seconds tick by, agonizingly slow. Green. I floor it.

Almost there. Two more blocks. One. I screech to a halt outside the store. Something's off. The air feels wrong. Tense. I scan the area, instincts on high alert.

Where's the guard? He should be visible through the window. I approach cautiously, senses heightened. A foot catches my eye. My stomach drops.

There, partially hidden behind a rack, lies the guard. Motionless. Blood pooling beneath him. Fuck.

I push the door open, the bell's cheerful jingle strange to the ears. I look down to see the guard motionless, his legs right in my way.

I step over his body and look up. Suddenly, the scene before me makes my blood run cold.

There she is. My Natalia. Ropes digging into her soft skin, tossed over that bastard Sidorov’s shoulder just as he turns for the door. Right before me stands the man I've been trying to bring down for years.

"Put. Her. Down." I say, through gritted teeth. Her blonde hair is disheveled, and I can see tear tracks on her cheeks. Those warm brown eyes are now wide with terror.

"Well, well, Zolotov. Took you long enough," Sidorov drawls, his hand squeezing into Natalia’s knees.

Natalia moans and squirms, and Sidorov only clutches her tighter.

A roar builds in my chest, primal and fierce. How dare he touch her? My vision blurs red, and I take a step forward, fists clenched.

"I said. Let. Her. Go." Each word is a barely controlled growl.

Sidorov laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. "Or what, Denis? You'll bore me to death with your moral superiority?"

I force myself to take a deep breath, fighting to keep my composure. One wrong move and Natalia could pay the price. I need to think, to plan. But all I can focus on is the fear in Natalia's eyes, the silent plea for help.

"What do you want, Sidorov?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.

He smirks, running a hand up her thigh. She flinches, and something inside me snaps.

Without thinking, I lunge forward, my protective instincts taking over. "Don't you fucking touch her!" I roar, all pretense of calm evaporating in an instant.

Sidorov immediately throws her down. I hear the thud as her body hits the floor. My heart falls to my stomach. Fuck. Is she hurt?

I quickly glance over as Natalia slides herself against the wall, the bindings making her movements slow. She’s fine, for now.

I look back ahead and my fist connects with Sidorov's jaw, the satisfying crunch of bone against bone echoing through the store. He stumbles back and I use the moment to kick him in his chin.

Just then, the bell chimes and a new figure emerges through the door. Of course, Sidorov wouldn't come alone.

I'm torn, my body instinctively wanting to go for him, but my mind knowing I can't turn my back on Sidorov.

Sidorov recovers, wiping blood from his split lip. "You always were a hothead, Denis. It's why you'll never win."

"I'm not here to win," I spit back, my muscles coiled and ready. "I'm here for her."

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