Page 102 of Bratva Bride

I noticed her absence immediately but just assumed she was upstairs somewhere. This place had four fucking floors. She could be on any one of them, but surely she would have come downstairs when she heard us come back?

I went to leave the kitchen when Vin spoke.

“Turo, where the fuck are you going? Let’s celebrate! We got all the guns back, got a few prisonersandwe didn’t lose a single man. Win, win, fuckingwin.”

All valid points to celebrate, but-

“I’m going to find my wife.”

“Don’t bother. She’ll just be killjoy, ruin our buzz.” Lukyan shrugged out of his bloody suit jacket and hung it over a chair.

Aleksandr slapped him over the head. “Don’t talk about her like that.

“What?! I’m just being honest,” he whined, massaging his head. “Watch. The second she comes down here she’ll whine and bitch about how she wasn’t allowed to come.”

I left them to argue and went to find her. After checking upstairs and the rest of the house that wasn’t being repaired, I was irritated as fuck when I still couldn’t find her.

Where the fuck was she? She better not have left the house. I gave very specific instructions to Christian, Luca and Lorenzo and they better have fucking listened or there’d be hell to pay.

When I stepped back into the kitchen alone, Aleksandr frowned. “Where’s Illayana?”

A sinking feeling churned in my stomach. “I don’t know, I couldn’t find her.”

“Relax. She’s probably in the warehouse or something punching out her frustrations,” Lukyan said, taking another shot, not at all bothered about the fact that his sister wasn’t here.

Aleksandr walked over to the glass sliding door and pulled back the curtain, peering outside. “There’s no lights on in the warehouse. She isn’t in there.” He walked back to the kitchen bench and knocked back a shot, the frown still on his face.

The sinking feeling grew, spreading throughout my body, and I clenched my fists.

Oh, I’m going to kill them. They fucking left.

I pulled out my phone and just as I went to dial one of her idiot bodyguards it rang, the name CHRISTIAN flashing on the screen. I answered quickly.

“You better have a damn good fucking reason as to why you aren’t here at the house,” I growled.

“I’m sorry, boss. Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry.”

I stiffened, my whole body going rigid. “Put her on the phone.”

“Boss-”

“Put. Her. On. The. Phone,” I repeated slowly, my voice deepening with every word.

Christian spoke fast. “I-I can’t. Listen, boss, it was a mistake. A stupid fucking mistake that we shouldn’t have made but she wanted to go out and she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and then we ran into her cousin who wanted to talk to her alone and then I seriously don’t know what happened. We got gassed or some shit, I dunno, and when we came to she wasn’t there anymore. Fuck, I don’t even-”

“Enough!” I yelled. “Where is she, Christian?”

“I’m sorry boss, I don’t know. She was taken.”

Taken.

Time slowed down, everything around me grounding to a halt as those words sunk in. She was gone. Someone had kidnapped her. Taken her from me.

Rage blasted through me and I roared, screaming at the top of my lungs. I lashed out, kicking furniture over and cursing him three ways to Sunday, calling him every filthy name I could think of. I was no longer speaking English. Everything came out in a rush of Italian.

I punched the wall, every curse accompanied by my fist punching through the plaster. I kicked in the China cabinet filled with expensive antiques, bashed the shit out of everything in my reach until my knuckles bled.

Aleksandr stepped towards me, to do what I had no idea, but Vin got in his path, shaking his head. He knew the best thing to do was stay the fuck out of my way when I was like this.

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