Page 55 of Dark Bratva Christmas
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” I say, narrowing my gaze at Nik. “I’ve heard he’s into the old gangster ways.”
“Then you heard wrong,” he chuckles. “The only thing Mauricio cares about is who’s the next fuck and when’s the next payout. He’s not that deep from what I can gather.”
“And?”
“And I think he’d be fucking gullible under the right situation.” Nikolai gives me the look that says it all.
“He’s a pawn.”
“I caught two guys down at the shop with the new guns,” Nik continues, digging into his leather jacket pocket as we step out into the winter air. “And I think I knowexactlywho we need to go have a chat with.” He stops me as we reach the car, pulling out his phone.
I stand there, waiting and, honestly, a little fucking pissed that I’m the last to know on all these matters. I’ve been so caught up in fighting my goddamn feelings for Catarina that I haven’t been able to focus on anythingotherthan my war with her.
“Here.” Nikolai hands me his phone, which is pulled up to the security footage of the pawn shop he owns in Queens. “Right there. That’s one of the models I sold.” He zooms in on the picture. “You can see the defect in the hammer.”
I stare at the footage, my blood running ice cold. I don't know what's about to happen, but I'm going to put a stop to it.
And I think I know where Catarina might be.
Merry Fucking Christmas.
Chapter seventeen
Catarina
I blink in and out of consciousness during the drive. My hands ache from being bound, and whatever this rope is has me appreciating the silk that Matysh used.
I should’ve told him how I felt.The pain of that settles deep in my chest as I fade back into the darkness; whatever I’ve been given is too strong for me to fight.
When I finally regain consciousness, I’m in a pitch-black room.
“Hello!” I cry out, my voice hoarse and raspy. I try to blink away the bleariness, but it doesn’t work, so I focus on where I am.
Even though I’m bound, I’m able to feel my surroundings. It slowly registers to me that I’m lying on something plush and strikingly comfortable...
A bed. I’m on a bed.
I kick my ankles, realizing they’re no longer zip-tied. However, as I toss my legs over the bed and try getting up to walk around, my body rejects the idea. I’m still too doped up to move.
What did they give me?My heart starts to race, beating unevenly in my chest.What if it was something that could hurt the baby?
This is my worst nightmare.
I don't know what the hell happened. I don't know if the rest of the staff at the house are okay, if Matysh is okay. I don't know where he went this morning or when he came back.
I don't knowifhe came back.
And that’s what unleashes the floodgates. My heart squeezes deep in my chest, as the tears slip from my eyes.
I roll onto my side, my body feeling heavy and lethargic from whatever drugs they’ve given me. My stomach furls, and I fight the urge to vomit as a sob breaks loose in my chest.
Please don’t take Matysh, too. Please.
I don’t even care that he’s rough around the edges. I don’t care if he snaps the fingers of every man who’s ever thought that he could maybe touch me.
I don’t care.
I don’t care because while he does all the wrong things, he still…tries.
