Page 21 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
They tilt their head. “You think Kaz would leave you unsupervised after that mouth of yours? He’s watching. Maybe not every second, but when he’s not, the feed is recording. You want privacy, the bathroom’s your best bet. The closet, too, but only for short stretches. You’ll know when it’s safe.”
“Are the cameras watching now?”
“Yes. But don’t worry about it.” They wave. “I’ll take care of it.”
I swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Why are you doing this?”
Arina shrugs again, but it’s more guarded this time. “Because you deserve to have some say in your own life—even if it’s a quiet, secret one.”
I nod slowly.
Their voice drops into something more serious. “But don’t mistake this as permission to be reckless. Do not—and I meando not—try to escape. This place is a fortress. Armed guards. Locked gates. Bolted windows. Infrared sensors at night. You’ll get caught, and if Kaz finds out you tried to run, it won’t end pretty. He’ll take it personally.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “Got it.”
Arina leans closer, their tattoos catching the light. “He’s unpredictable. Dangerous, yeah—but not stupid. You don’t want to test how far he’ll go. So keep your head down, use the phone smartly, and stay alive until I figure out what the hell I can do.”
I nod again, this time slower, heavier. “Thanks.”
They tap the phone gently in my palm, then straighten. “Delete every message after you send it. You’re smart. I know you’ll manage.”
And just like that, they’re gone again.
The second the door clicks shut behind Arina, I jump to my feet, heart racing.
I sprint to the closet like it’s a bomb shelter, flip on the dim light, and shut the door behind me. My fingers tremble as I pull the burner from my pocket and open the messaging app. Fortunately, I know Noelle’s number by heart.
Me:Noelle. Don’t freak out. I was kidnapped. I don’t know exactly where I am, but it’s a mansion. Rich. Guarded. It’s connected to those photos I took with my camera. I will send more updates when I can!!
I hit send, my thumb hovering to see if it goes through.
Delivered.
Barely a second later, I hear footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Thundering across the hall.
Shit.
I snap into panic mode. I delete the messages, shut the phone off, and shove it into the empty shelf. My chest is heaving, but I force my legs to move. I dart out of the closet, close the door behind me, and throw myself back onto the bed just as the main door swings open.
Of course, it’s him. The fucking bastard. Arrogant jerk with icy eyes and a smile that could make a nun sin. I shoot upright in bed, all pretense gone, my voice lashing out before I can stop myself.
“Oh, look who decided to drop by. What is it this time? More threats? Another cage? Or are you just here to gloat?”
He doesn’t react, just steps in casually like this is his living room and I’m his houseguest instead of his prisoner.
I don’t wait for him to speak. “Let me go, Kaz. I won’t go to the police, I swear. I won’t tell anyone. You can keep your little mafia kingdom. Just let me out of this nightmare.”
He chuckles—actually chuckles—and my blood boils.
“You can go to the police if you want, Violet,” he says lazily. “I don’t give a damn.”
“God, you’re insane,” I hiss, pushing off the covers and standing, my fists clenched. “You kidnapped me. You shot someone. And now you’re acting like this is some kind of twisted sleepover?”
His gaze is unreadable, cool as ever, but there’s something simmering beneath it. “Why haven’t you been eating?”
That knocks me off balance for a second. “What?”
“You heard me,” he says, stepping forward just a little. “I told the staff to feed you. You’ve barely touched anything.”
