Page 91 of Masked Seduction
I picture Jenna’s face when I storm that room, her eyes flashing relief and fury in equal measure. When I cut the cuff from her wrist, I’m going to tell her what I should have said over dinner.
I love you, kisa. Let me keep you safe.
Not exactly a polished speech. Just the truth, raw and ugly, the way Bratva men reveal their hearts.
Denis’s voice crackles over the comm. “Alpha, thirty seconds to the mark. Heat index unchanged. No patrol outside.”
“Copy,” I respond. “Bravo, stay tight. No hero shit.”
Georg answers with a double click.
We roll past a busted streetlamp. The house is situated at the end of the cul-de-sac, moonlight painting its stucco the color of bone. The Jeep we tagged on FLIR still sits out front, windows fogged from bodies breathing inside.
In the back seat, Mikail closes the laptop and racks his pistol. “You sure you want point?”
I flash a grin he can’t see. “The first person Jenna lays eyes on will be me.”
He huffs. “Figured.”
As we coast the last half-block, I kill the engine, letting momentum carry us to the curb. Silence fills the space, only the sound of my pulse in my ears, steady and certain.
Denis scans the perimeter through his scope. “One guard on the porch smoking. Rifle slung over his shoulder. Eyes on his phone. Amateur hour.”
“Take him quietly. We breach in two.”
I lean back against the headrest, thumb the slide of the SR9, and allow one more thought of Jenna. She’s humming under her breath while typing at my desk, a tune I never recognized. Funny how you can miss something so small until it’s threatened.
Almost there, my love.
The Yukon doors pop open in silent choreography. The night breathes around us, hot and dusty. My boots hit the gravel and I ghost forward, every move a laser sight on the bedroom where she waits.
Showtime.
CHAPTER 36
ABRAM
Ilead the approach, Denis at my side.
As the house looms closer, I get a better look at the peeling stucco, shuttered windows, and trash-strewn front steps. Parties here must get pretty messy; chaotic affairs no decent woman would ever choose to attend. The image of Jenna trapped inside that filth sends fire coursing through my veins.
I fight the impulse to storm straight through the front door.Discipline, I remind myself. Rage can wait.
“Mikail, take Georg and sweep the south side,” I order quietly, my voice barely audible even in the stillness. “Check windows, watch for movement.” They vanish silently into the darkness, their training evident in every carefully placed step.
Denis and I move toward the north side. Adrenaline sharpens my senses. I smell the faint scent of garbage, hear the distant traffic noise. My own breathing is silent, steady, and deliberate.
It takes only a minute before I hear Jenna’s voice.
“Let me use the damn bathroom, you asshole!” she shouts, frustration and fury clear in her tone. She remains strong and defiant. That’s my girl.
Denis looks at me. “She’s alive.”
I nod, motioning for him to follow me toward the source. We slip beneath the window ledge, crouching low, muscles tense. Another burst of Jenna’s voice punches through the night.
“I’m serious! Take me to the bathroom or I’ll scream until your ears bleed!”
The sound of a door creaking open makes my pulse skyrocket. A male voice answers, arrogant and cruel. “Piss your pants, sweetheart. I don’t give a fuck.”
