Page 40 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
I couldn’t bring myself to masturbate each time I thought of him. Besides, I thought it was torture because no one would ever touch me the way that he did. EvenIcouldn’t match thestandard he’d set. Jerking off to the way he handled me would only make me want him more. So why torture myself?
I wondered if he enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed him. I wondered if this was just a one-time thing or the beginning of our sex life. We were, after all, husband and wife.
It scared me how badly I anticipated fucking him again. Even though neither of us said a word after the sex, it was clear that we both were satisfied—shocked. But also satisfied.
How could I want to fuck him again after he ruined my life and stole my future? Why couldn’t I hate him the way I used to? Was that how cheap I was, easily bought over with a cock?
Thousands of thoughts overlapped in my head as I walked through the hallway that evening.
I was minding my own business, thinking of ways to stay sane, when I heard a familiar voice from behind the door ahead. It was Luka’s, Val’s right-hand man, and the voice seemed to be coming from Val’s study.
I should just walk past and continue minding my business. But I couldn’t help myself, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to eavesdrop on their conversation. That way, I could at least hear Val’s voice: that deep, husky voice that always sent shivers down my spine.
With quick glances over my shoulders, I checked to be sure no one was watching. Then quietly, I walked toward the study, and that’s when I discovered the door was slightly ajar.
Curiosity kills the cat,my voice of fear whispered.Don’t go digging unless you wanna find a body.
I ignored the warning but soon realized that I never should’ve.
From behind the door, I watched with wide eyes as Val, crouched before a battered man, jabbed a knife into his neck. My hand flew to cover my lips, my heart pounding loudly in mychest. Val had no remorse on his face, and those steel-gray eyes watched the life drain from his victim’s body.
I didn’t realize there was an empty can on the floor until I accidentally kicked it in an attempt to fall back. As it clanked away, the noise drew Val’s attention, and the moment he looked in my direction, I froze.
My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes widened in horror. He stood there like a statue, watching me with a flat expression. His eyes were cold and hollow, devoid of any emotion. He looked like a man, but the person staring at me was a monster, one that I had underestimated this entire time.
In silence, I turned around and walked away—I basically ran back to my room with a racing heart.
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him take a life before. On the night of the attack, I watched him drill four bullets into an assassin’s head. But it was different this time. The man he killed wasn’t an armed assailant. He was a beat-up young man, and he killed him in cold blood.
I rushed into my room and slammed the door shut behind me. Leaning my back against it, I tried telling myself that maybe the man crossed a line—maybe he did something so evil, and Val didn’t have a choice but to end his life.
It sounded so ridiculous in my head, especially because I couldn’t get that horrific image out of my mind. And just like that, the lust I felt for him was quickly replaced by fear and shock.
I remained in my room for the rest of the day, trying to let the incident sink in. Why the hell was I drawn to his shady business anyway? Stumbling upon him in that warehouse was what got me into this mess in the first place.
I didn’t leave my room until the next morning after I made up my mind to confront him about what I saw. Of course, those voices in my head argued all night on whether or not myplan was a good idea. Obviously—and as usual—I ignored my fear.
According to one of the maids, he was in his study, and it took almost every ounce of strength in me to walk head in that direction. I seemed fine and normal as I walked through the hallway. But honestly, deep down, I was afraid of what I’d find behind that door.
What if I walked in on him taking another life? Would I be able to take it? I’d seen enough blood and death during my short time here already. The last thing I needed was another horrific image to add to my collection.
I halted in front of his door, lifted my hand to knock, but paused mid-air. My heart was hammering in my chest as I listened for voices inside. If I heard any, I’d turn around and leave immediately. But all I heard was silence. Meaning, he was probably alone inside.
Instead of knocking, I lowered my hand and grabbed the door handle. Gently, I pushed it, and it creaked open with a slow motion, revealing the man seated at his desk across the cozy space. My eyes fell on the spot where the man had bled to death.
It was clean and sparkly, like there hadn’t been a pool of blood right there hours ago.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze pinned on me as I walked in, uninvited. I shifted my eyes back to him, clenched my jaw, and wore my fearless expression.
“What are you?” I demanded, my voice firm enough to mask my anxiety.
“Good morning to you, too,” he teased, that signature pesky little smirk lining the corners of his lips.
“I’m serious, Val,” I said, eyes hooked on him. “What the fuck are you?”
He went silent for a second, then replied with that calm voice of his, “You know what I am—a monster.”
I swallowed hard as those cold words struck me like a dagger to the chest. “Why…?” I murmured, weakened by his response. “Why are you so evil?”
