Page 50 of Obsessed Bratva King

The blood in my veins turns to ice as I look up into Darren’s sneering face.

I lift my head, my vision swimming, my breath shallow and sharp. Darren steps forward, his dark coat rustling slightly.

He looks at me like I’m exactly where I belong.

I twist, still trying to scramble backward, but rough hands clamp down on my arms, yanking me upright. I thrash, my nails clawing at the hands pinning me in place.

Darren watches, amused.

"You shouldn’t have stolen from me," he murmurs, stepping closer, his voice infuriatingly calm.

I jerk against the men holding me, my breath ragged.

His hand lifts, his fingers trailing lightly over my cheek. Mocking. Amused. Cruel.

"Where is it?"

“Where’s what?”

“Don’t fuck with me. Where is it?”

Rage snaps through me like a lightning strike.

I spit in his face. “Fuck you.”

The men gripping me stiffen. The air crackles, tension thick and smothering.

For a long moment, he doesn’t move.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he wipes the spit from his cheek with the back of his glove.

And smiles as he licks it.

A chill seeps into my spine.

His hand lashes out, but not to strike. He grips my jaw, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, forcing my face upward.

"Still feisty," he muses, tilting his head slightly. "I’ll have fun breaking that resolve with my cock."

The first blow lands before I can brace for it.

Pain explodes through my ribs, stealing the breath from my lungs.

I choke, my vision blurring, but the next strike comes fast—a brutal, crushing blow to my stomach.

My baby.

I fold inward, my body collapsing, knees slamming into the pavement. The impact rattles through me, sending pain screaming through my bones.

Before I can recover, a boot connects with my ribs.

A strangled cry rips from my throat. My body tilts sideways, hitting the ground hard.

The world spins. The air is heavy, thick, suffocating. I can’t breathe.

Hands grab me—hauling me up, dragging me forward. My legs barely work, my vision swimming, pain a living thing beneath my skin.

I struggle, my arms jerking, but their grip is unyielding.

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