Page 21 of Bratva Hostage

“Cecily can be reasoned with if she trusts the person talking to her,” Seraphina comments. “Do you really think she trusts you?”

The question sits heavily in my chest. I told her she could trust me, but I’m not naive enough to believe she’d simply take me at my word. “I don’t know. Probably not right now.”

“Then you have your work cut out for you,” Grigor says. “If she feels cornered, she might do something rash.”

The forced marriage may be strategic, but it adds a dangerous layer to my already complicated feelings. The memory of that kiss still taunts me, and now I might have to stand in front of my family and claim her as my wife for purely political reasons. The thought sends an uncomfortable heat racing through my veins.

Seraphina lays a hand on my forearm. “I’m not thrilled about this. But if it’s the only way to keep Cecily out of Father’s hands, I won’t stand in the way. I just hope you realize how traumatic this will be for her. She’s already had her life hijacked by Father. Now the Barkovs are going to do the same?”

I turn away to gather my thoughts. “I’ll do my best to handle it gently.”

“Go talk to our brothers, make your plan. Then, talk to Cecily. If you force this, she’ll never forgive you.”

Seraphina touches my shoulder. “And please, keep me in the loop. I don’t want her blindsided.”

“I should get back.”

We exchange farewells, and I exit the safehouse. My driver waits in the car, and I climb into the back seat, shutting the door with a force that betrays my frustration. This entire situation feels like a slow burn, threatening to explode if we make one wrong move.

As we drive, I stare out the window, though I’m not really seeing anything. My mind replays the guard’s message about the attempted abduction. Thorne’s men came close, or at least tried to. They’re getting bolder. If we don’t do something definitive, Cecily’s life remains in constant danger.

And now I’m supposed to solve this by proposing marriage. The idea leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Marriage should be a partnership, a union of some kind, not a protective contract to keep her father at bay. Yet I can’t deny the logic: once she’s part of our family, Thorne can’t simply snatch her without sparking a war he can’t hope to win.

I close my eyes and massage the tense muscles in my neck. The problem is that my feelings for Cecily—whatever they are—complicate everything. She hates me, and I don’t blame her. But a selfish part of me wants her to look at me with something other than disgust.

I don’t want this to be a loveless, passionless marriage.

But what are the chances Cecily would ever care for a man like me?

It doesn’t matter. My desires don’t get a say. This is bigger than both of us. The Barkov name is on the line. And I refuse to let a Thorne take our legacy down.

Chapter 8 - Cecily

A crash echoes from somewhere down the hallway, followed by raised voices that send my heart racing. I slip through my door to investigate, and to my shock, there isn’t a guard on watch. The tension in this estate has been building for days, but something about these shouts makes me think it has reached a boiling point.

Two guards sprint past me. One of them barks into a phone, “Dimitri has him detained.” That alone tells me something serious has happened. Ever since my father orchestrated the failed attack, security has doubled, and everyone jumps at the slightest sign of trouble, but this is serious if Dimitri is involved.

I follow the guards from a distance, stopping when I notice a group of men gathered in front of a storage room. They’re armed, tense, and ready to fire at any moment. I catch snippets of their conversation—“Leon,” “traitor,” “tipped off Thorne.”

Leon. He’s the guard I’ve been keeping an eye on because he’s always late to his shift. My suspicions were minimal, but apparently, the Barkovs have discovered something far worse. I slow my steps as I try to hear more. One of the men turns and sees me, but before he can protest, Dimitri’s voice rings out from inside the storage room.

“Let her through,” he orders. “This concerns her, too.”

The men reluctantly part to reveal a cramped interior space. I step inside, and my stomach churns at the sight of Leon on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He’s bruised, and there’s blood trickling from a split lip. His eyes dart aroundbefore resting on me for a moment. They’re filled with terror, and it sends a chill racing down my spine.

Dimitri stands in front of him while Aleksei and a few other Barkov brothers form a half-circle around them. Leon is panting, and sweat is beading on his forehead.

Aleksei glances in my direction. “Keep back,” he warns, though his tone is more concerned than hostile.

I ignore him. My gaze connects with Dimitri’s, who says, “You gave Thorne our schedule. You told him when I’d be off the property. One of our guards almost died, and you nearly handed Cecily back to that maniac.”

At first, I think he’s talking to me. All the blood in my body drains to my toes, and I start to shake my head, but Leon responds before I can.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he rasps.

Maksim brandishes a phone in his face. “We have the logs. You called a burner number, and we traced the call to Thorne’s group. You were paid to sabotage our security.”

Leon tries to shrink away, but Dimitri yanks him closer by the collar. “They threatened me,” he insists. “I didn’t have a choice.”

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