Page 60 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
I turn, furious. They take a step back from me, but continue. “Because now that we’re back, whoever did this knows their window is closing. I suspect they’ll strike again—soon. And I don’t trust your guards. Not all of them.”
My hands curl into fists. Everything feels like it’s fraying. Violet. The house. My men.
Maxim steps forward, measured. “Kaz—if I’m right, we’ll catch them in the next twenty-four hours. But if we don’t play this smart—”
I cut him off. “I’ve heard enough.”
I stalk toward the door again. “You two are wasting my time. Playing chess when I need fucking war.”
“Boss—” Arina starts.
I pause at the door. “I’m going to see Lukin. At least he remembers how to get shit done. You both are fucking useless.”
Arina stiffens. Maxim mutters a curse.
I storm out the door, fury in my veins, barking at Milo to get the car ready. “I want it out front in five. Armed. Now.”
As I head toward the bedroom, every step feels heavier than the last. Because I know what I have to do.
Despite my rage, Arina is right.
Violet isn’t safe here—not anymore. Not with traitors in my walls and bounty hunters sniffing around like wolves. I haveto get her out of the estate. Move her somewhere more secure. A high-level holding facility where no one—not even my own men—will know where she is.
But not yet.
First, I need help. Real help.
Lukin.
Adrian.
Lukin has bled more than I’ve fought. His experience is unmatched, and he’s got something I’ve never had—a family. A child. A woman he’d raze the world to protect. He’ll understand the desperation clawing at my insides.
Adrian too. Stoic, ruthless, calculating—a brother. I helped him with Jennie. He owes me one. I need him now.
If it means swallowing my pride, so be it. I’ll bleed humility if that’s what it takes to keep her breathing.
But until then….
Today, I’ll have to do something that feels like betrayal: I’ll have to take Violet to the panic room.
It’s underground. Soundproof. Reinforced steel walls. Guards posted at every hallway. A fortress built to keep enemies out—and, unfortunately, to keep someone locked in.
Like a fucking prisoner.
My heart clenches at the thought. She’s not a prisoner. Not anymore. Not to me. But whoever’s after her? They’re hellbent on making her feel like one.
And to keep her safe, I’ll have to treat her that way—even if it kills me.
But I swear to God, every bastard who put this fear in her, every hand that dared reach for her, I will find them.
And I will make them pay.
I find Violet in the bedroom, barefoot and tucked beneath a throw blanket, reading some old classic she borrowed from mylibrary. The soft light from the chandelier above casts a soft glow across her skin. She looks peaceful.
Too peaceful for what’s coming.
She perks up when she sees me, her eyes lighting up as I approach. I lean in, kiss her forehead, and murmur, “Come with me.”
