Page 52 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
The sex was great—rough and fast-paced, but great. We hadn’t said a word to each other since we finished hours ago. My own reason for not speaking to him was shame. I was so embarrassed by how easily he was able to seduce me without even trying, and so I avoided him.
About two hours ago, he stepped out of the room, probably to handle the situation with his right-hand man. The one he murdered with his bare hands. Shit. The gruesome images of Val drilling punches into Luka’s face came flashing in my head, reminding me of just what this man was capable of.
Luka had been his lieutenant for decades, and in just one night, that bond was broken.
You’re so selfish,one of the voices in my head said, sharp and accusing.You only think and care about yourself. What about him? How do you think he feels being betrayed by the one person he trusted the most in the world?
As annoying as that voice was, it was right—I hadn’t taken the time to see things from his own perspective. This man literally killed the closest thing he had to a best friend just to save my life.
For the very first time, I put myself in his shoes, daring to imagine what he must be going through. I’d be falling apart right now if I were him; the pain of a friend’s betrayal would cut so deep it would leave me broken.
But he’s a monster, and monsters have no emotions,said another voice.
I didn’t really believe that because, despite my anger and frustration, I knew deep down that he was still human. His conscience wasn’t entirely dead. He was just a man at the end of the day, one who’d had to make the toughest decisions all his life.
He seemed calm and collected on the outside, but honestly, I couldn’t help but think it was just an act. On the inside, his world was probably crumbling to the ground. No one could walk away from what happened to him unfazed or unaffected.
It had never been clearer to me why people like him were cold as ice. Violence, betrayal, and pain were the key factors thatshaped their reality and perception of life. I now understood how monsters were born. Maybe if what happened to him had happened to me, I probably wouldn’t be the woman that I was today.
Just the other day, I tried to convince him that there was a shred of humanity left in him. But if I continued on this path, my actions might end up making things worse. Yes, I was pissed about how badly my life sucked; however, I wasn’t the only one. His situation was as bad as mine.
I got out of bed, had a shower, and changed into some fresh clothes. At first, I was afraid to leave the room, and so I sat down on a couch, waiting for his return.
Hours passed, and he still hadn’t come back. I paced back and forth, absently chewing on my nails as my heart pounded in my chest. Every now and then, my gaze would dart to the wall clock. It was almost midday, and he’d yet to return.
Go find him,a voice whispered in my head.
I expected another to oppose the motion, maybe that pesky little voice of fear. But what followed was silence. It was like everything inside me wanted me to leave this room and find out what’s going on.
For the first time in a really long time, I was willing to listen to that voice of fear, but it didn’t speak. I paced in the middle of the room, watching the door with a racing pulse.
Go find him,the voice came again.
I drew a deep breath, swallowed hard, and then walked toward the door. It took me more than a few seconds to finally grab the handle and open it slowly. As I glanced out into the hallway, images of my attempted escape came flashing in my head. I didn’t mean to, but I recalled the intense struggle with Luka and that slap that almost blinded me.
It was the trauma from last night.
I shook my head, refusing to let those images settle. That fight was over, and it had no hold over me. Luka was gone, and he couldn’t hurt me anymore. With that, I walked out of the bedroom and headed to his study.
Just as I raised my hand to knock, I heard his muffled voice from the inside, calm but menacing. It sounded like he was giving orders, and although I couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, a sentence stood out.
“Tell them I’m done. And they can go fuck themselves.” His voice was laced with sheer anger.
I tried to turn back, thinking this wasn’t the right time, but on second thought, I damned the consequences. “Fuck it,” I murmured, knocked twice, and then pushed the door open.
Val was standing in front of his desk when I walked in. He froze when he saw me, like he wasn’t expecting anyone. We locked eyes for a moment, drowning in the awkward silence that stretched on forever.
His expression was unreadable, but something was off—though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. He seemed colder than usual, and this wasn’t just anger; it was also laced with something that seemed a whole lot like pain. The unspoken kind of pain, the unexpressed.
My eyes dropped to his hand, where he squeezed the phone tightly in his grip. His chest was heaving subtly, his jaw clenched, and a dark expression settled on his face. A turmoil was brewing on the inside—I could tell.
Quietly, I closed the door behind me, locked it, and stepped forward, my footsteps slow and cautious. I looked right at him, palms rubbing my arms as I drew nearer.
“Look, Wren, I have a lot on my mind right now; I cannot fight with you.” He lowered his head, fingers rubbing his eyeballs.
Ouch. That didn’t hurt at all. Didn’t realize I was such a troublemaker.
“I’m not here to fight,” I said, my voice calm and gentle.
