Page 10 of Forced Bratva Hostage

“You’ll have to ask nicely. Do you know how to do that?” My eyes trace over her body, the dress is like an oil slick over her curves, glistening with temptation.

“Fuck off,” she snaps.

“No problem.”

There is a bucket on the top of the shelf, so I reach for it and set it next to her bed. I also toss the blanket over her, a kindness I’m not sure she deserves at this point.

“Enjoy your stay in the luxury log cabin. Be sure to leave a good review in the morning,” I taunt her.

“My brother’s going to kill you,” she says darkly.

“I’m looking forward to him trying.”

“So, this is about my brother?” she whispers, her voice turning cold.

“What? You thoughtyouwere the special one? You’re just a means to an end, sweetheart,” I grin, then turn my back on her and walk out of the room, pulling the door closed because she is shouting again, swearing and cursing me and my entire family like a witch throwing spells around.

The cabin was not made with soundproofing in mind, and as I sink into the sofa near the empty fireplace, I wonder if I’m going to get any sleep tonight. If she doesn’t stop yelling, it will be impossible.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through it to check if the priest has messaged me to reschedule yet.

Dammit. The sooner I can get this wedding over with, the better. We can go to the mansion—it won’t be so cramped and claustrophobic. I really don’t want to stay in this cabin with this psycho little bunny.

Closing my eyes, I pretend I can’t hear her shouting or the constant thud, thud, thud as she kicks the wall with rhythmic monotony.

Somehow, I doze off, and when I wake up in the very early hours of the morning, the sky outside is only just beginning to show signs of a new day, and the entire cabin is quiet. She’s asleep or exhausted. I close my eyes again. But then the nagging reminder of how easily she got away last night creeps into my thoughts, and I can’t resist the urge to check on her, just to make sure she’s still there.

I walk as quietly as I can, avoiding the areas of the floor that creak. Her door lets out a little whine when I push it open. My heart stutters and I pause, holding my breath. It’s too early to deal with her shouting; if she is asleep, I want her to stay that way.

My eyes squint against the low light. She’s there, lying on her side, her face pressed into the pillow and her hair spilling like water around her.

Her dress has snuck up over her waist in the night, and I can see her gorgeous, dark, lace panties, barely covering anything at all.

My cock stirs as I watch her sleeping.

She looks peaceful and beautiful.

If she weren’t such a bitch she would be my type.

Not that I have time for relationships. Especially not now.

My entire focus is revenge, not this.

I huff and drag my eyes off her.

My stomach growls and I pull my mouth tight, wondering if there is anything worthwhile in the pantry cupboards.

Tinned food, no doubt.

That little bunny is going to throw an even bigger tantrum when she realizes that there might only be canned spaghetti for breakfast.

The thought makes me chuckle as I walk towards the kitchen.

There is definitely coffee. That much I know.

Black, dark and sweet.

For now, that’s all I need.

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