Page 60 of Bratva Hostage

I take a deep breath and press a hand over my stomach.

I can’t give up. Not yet.

So I get up and walk the perimeter of the room again, looking for any weaknesses, any way to get free. But there’s nothing. No way out.

Time passes in a blur. I count the hours.

Day.

Night.

Day again.

Each time, Marta returns, silent, with a tray. She doesn’t look at me. It’s not until the third day that something changes. When she enters, there’s a dimple between her eyebrows. She looks as though she’s been arguing with herself.

“Cecily.” She doesn’t turn her back on me this time.

I sit up, staring at her.

“I can’t let you stay here.”

Chapter 23 - Dimitri

I haven’t slept in three days. That’s not an exaggeration. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face, imagine her calling my name, and my mind spirals into a thousand different outcomes where I fail to bring her home. I roam these halls like a restless ghost, snapping at anyone who dares ask how I’m doing. I’m not doing well. I’m barely functioning. Still, I keep moving because I don’t have a choice. Cecily is missing, and I can’t rest until I find her.

Every single day, my men report no sign of that suspicious car near the estate, no indication of anyone matching her description in the usual places. Each dead end grinds down my hope. But I can’t give up. I swore to protect her, and I failed. The guilt eats at me every waking moment. The nights are worse—dark hours where I’m left alone with the memory of her eyes, of the hint of sadness I ignored.

I’m in my office, slumped behind the desk with a half-finished report from Maksim. He keeps handing me updates on the Bratva’s affairs and reminding me we can’t let business slide. He’s right, but I can’t concentrate on shipping routes or supply lines. All that matters is Cecily. Without her, nothing else matters.

I keep thinking about how I handled things. Should I have let her have more freedom? She made it clear that she felt trapped here. Was I too heavy-handed or too protective?

I sigh and rub my forehead. There are a hundred paths I could have taken, and they all ended in the same place—her slipping away.

A soft knock at the door sets me on edge, and I push up from the chair, praying for some good news for a change. “Enter.”

Maksim steps in, but his weary face doesn’t inspire confidence. “You need to eat something,” he says.

I glance at the clock. It’s nearing midnight. I haven’t eaten since morning, but my stomach roils at the thought of food. “Later,” I respond, waving him away.

He sighs but doesn’t move. “We’ve tried everything. Informants, local watchers, old contacts who might know Thorne’s movements. Nothing leads to her. We’ve combed the city four times.”

I press a hand over my face. “Then we comb it again.”

“We will,” he promises. “But you need rest. You can’t keep going like this.”

I slam a fist against the desk, rattling the lamp. “She’s out there. Either she ran, or Thorne took her. I can’t stop.”

Maksim tilts his head. Growing up, we were the closest of all our siblings, and that hasn’t changed much now that we’re adults. He knows better than to push me when I’m this wound up. “I’ll have the men double-check the outskirts. If we don’t find anything by morning—”

“We keep searching.” My voice comes out in a rasp. “She’s not disposable, Maksim. She’s mywife. I can’t let her slip away.”

Something unspoken passes over his features. Pity, maybe. I grit my teeth. I don’t want pity. I just want her back. He leaves without another word, pulling the door shut behind him.

Silence descends. I pace to the window and look out at the shapes in the darkness. Guards patrol. Everything is too calm, mocking the turmoil in my head. I replay the day she vanished,recalling how we fought and how I insisted on confining her to safe corridors. She hated it—I'm sure she hated me for it. If she left of her own accord, it’s because I didn’t trust her enough. That realization burns.

I sink into a chair once more, hanging my head. My chest feels tight; there’s an ache that’s become constant since she disappeared. Cecily. I never told her how I felt, how I need her strength, wit, and the spark in her eyes. I love her, though I kept that hidden. Now she’s gone, and I’m left with a regret so heavy it nearly crushes me.

The desk phone rings, startling me. I snatch it up. “Yes?”

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