Page 31 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva
I bolted into the night but didn’t get far enough when something hit me in the neck. I winced, my hand flying to pick it out of my skin. The pesky little thing prickled.
A tranquilizer dart. That was what it looked like when I stared at it.
Merely seconds later, my knees quaked, and my legs turned to jelly. I slowed down, my gaze blurring, my head spinning, and soon, I dropped to the pavement. It felt like the world was swirling around me, and I could swear that I heard my heartbeat slowing down.
With a hazy vision, I saw two huge figures towering over me.
“Bitch broke my nose,” one of them said, his voice echoing in my head.
I tried to move, but my body was too weak, too numb. I closed my heavy eyes, and darkness swallowed me before I could even attempt to say a word.
***
When I finally woke up, my body ached, and a dull throb haunted the back of my head. I wasn’t sure where I was yet—my vision was still foggy. I was groggy, dizzy, with a ringing in my ear that was gradually fading second by second.
I lifted my hand, attempting to rub my throbbing temple, and that was when I realized the chains that held me bound. I was chained to the wall like an animal with shackles on my feet. The room was dimly lit—cement walls with no windows—and it reeked like piss in here.
One thing was certain: I’d been kidnapped.
But by whom?
Who had the spunk to kidnap Marco Moretti’s daughter? That was either bold or stupid. But whoever it was, I was in deep trouble.
Then, I heard the front door creak open.
My heart sank in my chest, and my pulse spiked as a figure stepped into the room, boots hitting the concrete. “Who are you and what do you want with me?” I asked, my eyes fixed on the figure lurking in the shadows.
Silence.
I steeled myself, gritting my teeth in preparation to act as tough as I could. “Show me your face,” I demanded.
“Bravery,” a familiar masculine voice replied. “That’s one thing I’ve always admired about you, Ester.”
Fuck, no.
My breath hitched in my throat as I realized exactly who that was. “Yulian?” His name fell from my lips.
He stepped out into the open, his face blank and unreadable. “Hello, Ester.”
I looked up at him, confused and unsure of how to feel. Should I be afraid, or relieved? Things could have gotten a lot worse if he weren’t my captor. Right?
But why did he look at me with so much hatred and anger in his eyes? Why did he look like a man who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me or even put a bullet in my head?
“Yulian, what’s going on? Why am I here? Why am I in chains?” I asked, fighting against the emotions brewing within me.
“Because you’re leverage,” he answered, cold and straight to the point.
“What?” My voice was barely above a whisper, shoulders slumping in dismay.
“Your father declared war when he took something valuable to me. It’s only fair that I take what’s valuable to him,” Yulian replied.
I couldn’t recognize the man in front of me; he wasn’t the man I met in New York. This one had the devil’s eyes and the face of a demon.
“So what, you kidnapped me to get even?” I asked, my heart breaking into a million tiny pieces. “You’re just as evil as he is…a thug dressed in a tailored suit. A monster.”
“You should’ve thought about that before spreading your legs for this monster back in NYC,” he said, his lips twisting into an evil smirk.
My face contorted into a frown. “Fuck you, Yulian,” I spat, my voice dripping with venom.
