Page 13 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
The audacity of him drags something out of me that I didn’t know I had, and I lean forward, dropping my voice just as low. “You’re disgusting, and I’ll die before you ever touch me again.”
The bastard has the nerve to crack a smile. “One day,” he says, grey eyes burning into mine, “you’re going to beg me to touch you. And perhaps if you do it well enough, on hands and knees, let’s say, I’ll oblige.”
I’m not a violent woman, but it takes everything in me not to reach out and shove him down the stairs. That, and I know how effective my shoves are against him. It’s like trying to move a bull. All muscle and no emotional intelligence.
“You’re very unwell,” I tell him. “You need therapy. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“One or two.” He tucks his hands into his pockets, as unbothered as if we’re just chatting over coffee.
Maybe to him, this is any other Tuesday. Maybe I’m not the first woman he’s ever kidnapped. Maybe they’re all buried in the backyard or under the pool, because I can’t imagine him ever swimming in it. Then again, his eyes are as cold as a shark’s.
“You need to let me go,” I say.
He ignores me. “Why did you faint? Are you sick?”
“Don’t act like you care about my health when you fucking kidnapped me!” I grab my head with both hands, spearing my fingers into my hair. It’s a tangled mess from swimming this morning.
“I do care about your health,” he insists, sounding deadly serious.
“Then let me go,” I beg, feeling a warm prickle in the corners of my eyes, but there’s no way I’m going to cry in front of this monster of a man. He’d probably just get off on it. “Why are you keeping me here?”
His hand twitches toward me like he’s going to touch me, but he drops it when I jerk away. “I’m never going to let you go.”
Terror grips my heart. He means it. He has no intention of letting me go, not today, or tomorrow, or ever. How long before it’s obvious that I’m pregnant, and what will he do to me when he finds out?
“What do you want from me? Is it money? My family can pay you whatever it is you want. If you let me talk to them, I’m sure I can convince them not to retaliate, as long as you let me go soon. The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be for you.” I can’t stop rambling even as he turns and walks away. I follow him, continuing my tirade. “Is this a mafia thing?”
He heads into the kitchen, and I’m one step behind him. If he’s going to keep me here, I’m going to make him regret that decision. He’s never going to have a minute of peace. I might not be able to fight, but I can be really, really annoying.
“Tell me the truth,” I go on, scanning the room for potential escape routes as he opens the fridge and pulls out a rotisserie chicken and a bucket of potato salad. “You knew who I was that night at the club, and this was all some plot to get at my family.”
He looks up from spooning the food salad onto two plates. “I had no idea who you were that night.”
Finally. Getting anything out of him is like pulling teeth. It seems that needling him is the best way to gather information, even if I’m not sure how much I can trust what he says. “And when you ran into me at the surf shop? Was that a coincidence too?”
He grabs a knife from the block, and I freeze, watching the shine of the blade in the kitchen light. The memory of its cool touch against my skin brings fresh goosebumps to my arms. There’s an ease to the way he carves the flesh off the roast chicken that makes me uneasy, like he’s had more than a knife skills class’s worth of practice. This is a mafia man. He might carve people up for a living. Looking at him, I believe it.
Chapter 7 - Timofey
Oh, Talia, when will you learn that there’s no escape? I nurse a bottle of beer and watch Talia on the security cameras, trying door after door.. As part of my security upgrade, I installed cameras in every room, except the bathrooms, and my computer feed shows me every angle at once.
I wish she could just relax and accept that she’s here with me now. She doesn’t need to panic. I’m never going to hurt her. I’m never going to let anyone else hurt her, either. With how easy it was for me to take her, it was only a matter of time before someone else did the same. The Bratva world is too dangerous to be so careless. Her brothers have a lot to answer for.
Every time she asks me why I kidnapped her, I avoid the question. The truth is, I don’t have a good answer for her, and my plan for what to do with her didn’t extend much beyond getting her here. All I know is that I have to make her mine. Having her here gives us the time and space to make that happen. On her own, she’d chosen to run away from me and sever our connection. Here, I can make her see reason.
Talia bangs her fists against the back door. She’s cute when she’s mad. I close the camera program and lock my computer, then wander out into the house to find her. Following the sound of repetitive thuds makes it easy enough. The back door takes a final kick, and then she turns, letting out a frustrated growl that cuts off when she sees me.
“You,” she scowls. “This place is insane, you know that? Who makes doors that keep peoplein?That’s flat-out creepy. And what about the fire hazard? This whole place could burn down, and we’d be trapped in it.”
She slumps back against the door, nose crinkling like it does whenever she’s annoyed. It’s the facial expression I’m most familiar with at this point.
“There’s no danger of that,” I tell her. “If a fire breaks out, the locks are triggered to open when the smoke detectors go off. It’s all perfectly safe. You don’t need to worry.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better. At least then I can make it into the absurdly fortified yard with you. I didn’t even know they sold fences that high. Are you worried about an invasion of giants?”
“With the life I live,” I say, picking at the label glued to the beer bottle, “one can’t be too careful. Your brothers are learning that lesson now.”
Her eyes narrow at the mention of her brothers, and she kicks off from the door to march over to me. Despite her diminutive size, she squares up with me without a flicker of fear.
