Page 89 of Obsessed Bratva King

I’m too smart for you, Bratva boy.

I clench my jaw, my grip on the phone tightening.

I’ll trade your life for hers.

My pulse pounds, my vision narrowing.

Bring the flash drive or she dies. Tick tock.

The video ends.

I exhale slowly, forcing my breath steady.

I know what this is.

I know exactly what Darren wants.

This is a power play. A taunt.

He doesn’t understand that I would burn the entire fucking city to the ground before I let him keep her.

I already know what’s waiting for me.

I know walking into this alone is the kind of stupidity that gets men killed.

But I don’t hesitate.

Because she’s in there.

And I’m going to get her out.

“What’s going on?” Maxim whispers in my ear. “Where the fuck is everyone?”

I turn to tell him my plan, praying I’m doing the right thing.

The warehouse stinks. The space is cavernous, filled with towering stacks of crates and rusted metal shelving. Dim overhead lights flicker, casting ghoulish shadows across the floor.

I turn a corner and there she is.

“Cora.”

She’s in the center of the room, tied to a chair, her hands bound behind her back, ankles strapped to the chair legs. Bruised—but alive.

Her head snaps up the second she hears my voice.

I can see the relief in her eyes.

Darren leans casually against a stack of crates, a smug smirk plastered across his face, his arms folded like this is just another business deal.

His men are spread around him, guns casually at their sides. They aren’t aimed—not yet.

They don’t have to be. They think this is already over.

I hold up the flash drive.

Darren’s eyes gleam. “Toss it over.”

I don’t hesitate.

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