Page 57 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
Of course, I am going to meet him at the Swan Inn.
Over the course of two days, my mood shifted. I was lighter, my heart wasn’t breaking anymore. I was excited. And now I had a different emotion to hide from my brothers. Hope. Relief. So many secrets eating away at me, but I couldn’t make myself believe anymore—that I could live without him.
The morning of the day I was set to meet Timofey, I woke up happy. And as the hours stretched by, I couldn’t stop thinking about him at the Swan Inn. I’ve been there before. Susan celebrated one of her birthdays there. We ate at the restaurant and had champagne at the bar on the fourteenth floor. There were glittering chandeliers and high pillars coated in tiny golden mosaic tiles.
I can picture Timofey there, sitting at the bar, although he’s more likely waiting for me in one of the rooms.
The day has dragged on in slow motion, and I keep glancing at the clock, counting the hours, desperate for darkness to arrive.
At dinner, my patience is wearing thin. I’m fidgeting, and anxiety is beginning to shiver in my chest. I’m scared, but eager to get going.
My brothers aren’t surprised when I excuse myself from dinner to go to bed early. This is the norm now.
In my bedroom, I pace. It’s still too early to leave, and I have to wait for Marlen to settle into his room. He usually goes there around nine to shower and read or watch a movie.
At quarter past nine, I’m on edge as I creep down the quiet hallway between the bedrooms. His door is closed, and soft music is playing from inside. Light glows from beneath the door, spilling into the hallway.
It’s time.
I rush back to my bedroom and close the door. I’m already dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie. Not exactly attire for the Swan Inn, but it is what it is. I need to get out of here unseen.
I’ve climbed out of this window before.
I’ve scurried down the trellis on the side of the house, careful not to damage the thick green vine growing up it.
When my feet touch the grass beneath my window, I let out an excited giggle. But I’m not out yet. My eyes are fixed on the security camera to the left, positioned at the corner of the wall. I wait as it scans, moving away from me. Then I run. I run straight for the tree line at the edge of the property, and I don’t pause until I’ve hoisted myself up onto the gate and over.
Thank goodness for all that surfing and my arms being strong enough to lift my own weight.
Glancing up and down the road outside my brother’s property, it’s comfortably quiet. I stay out of the spilled patchesof brightness coming from the street lights on either side of the road and jog toward the Swan Inn.
But I don’t make it very far before, seemingly out of nowhere, springing from the shadows, three men leap out and grab me. It happens so fast, I don’t have a chance to scream. I kick and lash out. A hand is clamped tightly over my mouth. I fight harder, someone grunts in pain as I elbow his solid chest, but I’m outnumbered and overpowered, and pure panic surges through me as I’m thrown into a van that pulls up alongside us.
All I can think of is that Timofey is waiting, and he’ll think I chose not to see him ever again.
And my brothers…they’ll assume Timofey took me.
“Drive,” someone growls. “Before they stop us again.”
“Last time we tried to take this bitch we lost my brother,” another man growls.
“Don’t worry. You’ll have your revenge. A life for a life,” the first man says.
My heart sinks as the fear grows thicker. These are the same men who tried to snatch me when I first escaped Timofey’s mansion.There won’t be mercy.
Chapter 23 - Timofey
I brush my fingers over the top of the bar, pushing a block of ice along the golden surface. The bar at the Swan Inn is basically a giant gold mirror ball. For the hundredth time, I look at my watch. Just past eleven. She has one hour.
But already my hope is fading.Surely she would have been here by now.
I’ll wait, though.
I’ll wait past midnight, because I can’t let go of the idea of her. I saw the look in her face when I snuck into her room. I saw relief. A burning need. A desperation. I felt her lips on mine, and there was no denying that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her. That her words, the day she left me, were never the truth.
I’ll ask her why she thought she had no choice. But it hardly matters now.
I believe, without a doubt, that she wants to be with me.
