Page 10 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
“Look, I think this is some kind of big misunderstanding. You have the wrong girl,” she said, a hint of desperation creeping into her tone.
I scoffed, reached into my inner jacket, and withdrew one of the photos she took of me. “Does this look familiar?” I asked, sticking the picture in her face.
“Yeah, I took that two days ago,” she replied, oblivious to where I was going with this interrogation.
“Why?”
“Because I’m a photojournalism student,” she replied, furrowing her brows as if connecting the dots. “Wait a minute.” Her head tilted to the side. “Is that you in the picture?”
I rose to my feet, ignoring her question.
A scoff escaped her lips, her tone tinged with anger and disbelief. “Lemme get this straight: You kidnapped me because I was taking photos for my school project when you happened to walk into my frame?”
I stood facing her, arms crossed.
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
Silence. But my gaze was unwavering.
“Look,” she began, “I swear, I didn’t mean to take that photo—”
“You posted it,” I cut her off.
“Yes, because it was such a great photo, nothing more, nothing less!” The words jumped out of her mouth in a nervous rush, raw and defensive. “You have to believe me; no one sent me. I’m not working for anyone.”
I still didn’t say a word. She seemed convinced about her own innocence, but it would take a lot more than that to persuade me.
“Check my records. Everything I just told you is true. I’m just a student,” she added, pleading with her eyes.
Silence.
I’d already checked her records, and she was clean. Maybe too clean. But that didn’t change the fact that she put out a photo of me on the internet while I struck shady deals with my allies in the criminal underworld.
She exposed me to the world, put a target on my back, and almost cost me a million-dollar contract because my associates weren’t pleased with the photo. No, a little explanation for her recklessness just wouldn’t cut it for me.
“Look, I’m sorry. I—I can take down the picture,” she stuttered, her voice trembling subtly. “This is just a big misunderstanding. I didn’t think a single photo would land me in trouble. I was just at the wrong place, at the wrong time. You gotta believe me. Please.”
Oh, so she can beg.
I stepped forward and lowered myself to her level, eyes scanning her reaction. “You claim you’re innocent, that no one sent you.” I brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
She swallowed hard. “That’s right.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, my gaze roaming her body. “I guess we’ll find out,” came my reply as I rose to my feet.
“What does that mean?” she asked, eager, wide-eyed.
I ignored her and headed out of the room, shoes scuffing against the floor.
“Hey, what does that mean?!” she yelled after me, her voice dripping with fear. “What does that mean?!”
Even after I slammed the door shut and locked it behind me, I could still hear her muffled voice, yelling about her innocence.
That’s more like that. That’s what I expected of her. My lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, and I walked away, leaving her alone in complete and utter darkness.
Chapter 5 – Wren
I sat in the dark, hands still zip-tied behind my back after the tall, intimidating man had interrogated me and left. His aura was negative, his eyes cold and lifeless, his voice husky but evil. I couldn’t explain how, but there was something about him that spooked the hell out of me.
