Page 5 of Forced Bratva Bride

He let go of my hand and sat back in his seat. Hot tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall because I did not want to give him that power over me.

“Stop,” he said, his tone oddly calm as he settled behind the wheel. “You'll only hurt yourself.”

“Let me go!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “You don't know who you're dealing with. My brothers will—”

“The Ajellos,” he interrupted, putting the car in gear and reversing into the street.

“How…how do you know?” I asked in a trembling voice.

“So I was right,” he whispered, half to himself, a smile carving into his face. “Gastone, Carlo, and Dino. I know exactly who your brothers are.”

Fuck.Did he kidnap me on a hunch? I knew then I shouldn’t say more. I needed to gain information, not pass it around.

The situation started to form clearly in my mind. Here was a man who knew my brothers. Which meant, he knew what our family did. Which meant he was from our world. An enemy.

And I had fallen right into his trap. Suddenly, I felt like an utter, naïve fool. I should have listened to my brothers. I should have been grateful for their constant protection.

Why the hell did I let Dom leave me alone?

“You must be Larissa,” he said, coldly.

The sound of my name on his lips sent a chill through me.

Time stood still. I had given away the one piece of information I could have kept from him. I tried to threaten him with the knowledge that my brothers were to be feared, and with that, confirmed my identity.

If I had only kept quiet, I could have pretended this was a case of false identity. I could have tried my luck, but I messed up.

My thoughts churned in my head, and I realized then that we had pulled out the high street already. I had gotten so scared, that I’d wasted time when I could have pummeled at the windows, tried to get someone—anyone’s attention.

I’d read once that if kidnapped, the first day or two are the most critical in being found alive and safe. What the hell was he planning to do with me?

He’d taken me in broad public, and no one saw a thing. He was good, and I was utterly helpless.

I was choking on the air around me, the panic overwhelming all senses. “Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice coming out like a squeaky, frightened bird.

To my surprise, he laughed. “If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Killing you wouldn't get me what I want.”

A strange relief washed over me, only to be immediately followed by a deeper fear. Not death, then. But what? Torture? Ransom? Information? Leverage against my brothers? Whatever he wanted, the fact remained that I had been kidnapped by a dangerous stranger who knew far too much about my family.

“Who are you?” I demanded, trying to sound braver than I felt.

He didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the road. I tried to memorize our route, but he made so many turns. Sometimes, I felt as though he was trying to confuse me on purpose.

“Listen,” I said, trying to find another way out. “If you could just tell me what I want, maybe you’d realize it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Be this way?” he growled, his blue eyes piercing straight at me.

“M…maybe it can be resolved without you kidnapping me.”

“You really don’t know your brothers, do you?” he said, rather loudly. I shrank back in my chair, sensing the rage in his voice and the unspoken accusations I had no idea about. I knew I should remain quiet because I didn’t know how far he could be pushed.

I took the opportunity to study him more carefully. He was younger than I initially thought—mid-thirties, perhaps. He wore a Patek Philipe, which told me he wasn’t a local goon. He was someone with money, resources, and power. Someone like my brothers.

He was an equal, and that made him all the more dangerous. I thought of Dom, who had probably discovered I was missing. He would have called my brothers, would have faced their wrath.

“My brothers will find me,” I said, more to reassure myself than to give a threat.

“I'm counting on it,” he replied cryptically. I hadn’t realized my voice had traveled to him. “Though perhaps not as quickly as you might hope.”

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