Page 24 of Captive Virgin of the Bratva

“Briefly.”

“Vitals?”

“Shaky.”

“Let me see.”

I step aside but say nothing. She moves to Yuri’s side, her fingers already reaching for his pulse, checking his temperature, adjusting the angle of his leg with delicate, practiced hands. She’s not shaking now. Not like before. There’s still tension in her jaw, still tightness in her shoulders, but her movements are confident.

Too confident.

“Any idea what he said?” she asks without looking at me.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re here to check his pulse. Not debrief.”

She hums. “Right. God forbid I step outside the very generous boundaries you’ve set.”

My teeth grind together.

She leans over Yuri, brushing his hair back slightly. “He’s going to crash again if you don’t start a proper antibiotic regimen. These half measures won’t last.”

I take a slow step forward. “You forget who’s in control here.”

She finally looks at me then, really looks. Green eyes sharp beneath the exhaustion, her mouth tight with something between sarcasm and barely restrained rage.

“No,” she says. “Iknowexactly who’s in control. The man holding the gun. The one who doesn’t like questions. Or opinions. Or women who don’t cower when he raises his voice.”

I stare at her. One beat. Two.

The anger is instant—hot and hard, rising like floodwater before I even realize I’ve crossed the distance between us. My hand snaps out and grabs her by the front of her shirt, dragging her closer until we’re almost nose to nose.

“You think this is a game?” I growl.

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t flinch, not even a little.

“I think you’re scared,” she says, voice trembling but still loud. “Not of me. Of whatever it is you’re not saying.”

My grip tightens, but I don’t raise my hand further. I could. Part of me wants to. To remind her what kind of man she’s speaking to.

Instead, I press her back against the wall, arm barring her in.

“You have no idea what kind of danger you’re in,” I say, quieter now.

“No,” she breathes. “I know what kind of man you are.”

That stops me, just for a second. Then I let her go, shoving back a step.

She stumbles slightly but catches herself, shoulders straightening like she’s trying to pretend the wall wasn’t just holding her up. Her eyes don’t drop. Not even now. There’s fire in them, bright and furious, and I hate how much I notice it.

“Elise,” I say her name like a warning.

She lifts her chin. “What, are you going to kill me for telling the truth?”

The air between us tightens, heavy with heat and something else I don’t want to name. Yuri groans behind her, dragging her attention away. She turns on instinct, kneeling beside him again, all that fury replaced by calm precision.

I watch her check his breathing, adjust the IV, brush sweat from his brow with steady hands.

Like nothing happened, like I’m not still standing here, jaw clenched, hands flexing at my sides.

---