Page 12 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

That was a window worth considering.

The guards’ routine was somewhat complex, and I was still trying to figure it out. But so far, I noticed that they would always walk down the hallway at different intervals; the timing was almost unpredictable. They’d then check the doors and windows in the house before returning to their post.

One of them often lingered a bit longer by the staircase, smoking and glancing out the window as if checking for something or someone.

These men were everywhere in the building, patrolling the place like a swarm of bees. The mansion was a fortress, one that I doubted would be so easily invaded at that time of day.With all of these men available all day and all night, what hope was there for me to escape?

I mapped out the building’s layout, noting the doors, windows, and hidden compartments. The main entrance, as expected, was heavily guarded, with a few men stationed at the front door while two others patrolled the surrounding area.

The back door was slightly less guarded, but it was not a viable option for me, considering the guards there weren’t Nik’s men but his hounds: four huge beasts with scary canines that looked like they could tear any human limb from limb without even trying too hard.

So, no. The back door was off-limits.

However, I was still determined to escape this place one way or another. I had to leave, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity. It was dark already, and the loopholes—the vulnerabilities I’d discovered in the security system—had finally aligned. This rare convergence created a fleeting opportunity, a narrow window of chance, and I was ready to use it.

I threw my hands in my hair, piling it up into a ponytail as I glided across the room, my heart drumming in my chest. I halted by the window, my eyes studying the reinforced metal, fingers tracing along the window frame. I noticed what looked like a potential weakness in the hinges; they seemed loose enough to allow me to lift them.

My eyes narrowed as I traced the reinforced metal and the hinges with my fingers. My brain was thinking about a million and one things at once, a spark of hope igniting within me. In a heartbeat, my gaze darted toward the door, ears straining to detect even the faintest sound. But it was radio silent outside. For the past five to seven minutes, no footsteps echoed down the hallway, not even the usual murmurs of conversation.

The silence was an indication that this was my window. It was now or never.

“You got this,” I whispered to myself, my heart thundering in my chest, a primal drumbeat that seemed to shake my very foundations. “You got this.”

I’d studied the height of the window several times while exploring the house. It was a jump that I could make—maybe. Maybe not. A fall from that height could sprain my ankle, but with a well-calculated landing, I should be fine. I hoped so.

With a deep breath, I grasped the metal edge of a loose hinge, my fingers closing around it like a vise. Straining, I twisted and pulled, the metal creaking in protest. For a second there, it appeared as though the hinge wouldn’t budge, like all my effort would be futile in the end. But I wasn’t going to relent. No. I kept on pulling. And then, with a sudden jolt, it gave away the sound like a tiny explosion in the silence.

My eyes widened, a spark of triumph igniting within me, a fleeting moment of victory that illuminated the dark recesses of my soul. Then, I felt it—the surge of adrenaline, a rush of power that coursed through my veins like liquid fire. At last, I was getting out of here.

But then I messed up. I pulled a little too hard, and a sharp creak of the window, loud and obvious, sent a jolt of panic through me.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, my whole body steeling for a moment.

My eyes reflexively darted back toward the front door, and that was when my heart sank into my stomach.

How the hell did he get here so fast? I wondered, staring at the entrance where he stood, leaning against the door frame. He had on his signature unreadable expression, his eyes locked on me with both arms across his chest. I hadn’t heard the door open, nor had I heard him come in. But there he was, watching me in silence.

It was impossible to tell if he was mad, amused, or even a mix of both. However, as the air shifted to something more intense, something even colder slipped between us, causing my palms to sweat. I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening as I held his gaze, frozen in place. I felt like a nine-year-old caught stealing from the fridge in the dead of night.

And just like that, the small taste of freedom vanished in an instant, leaving me hopeless and afraid. My breath hitched in my throat, my skin prickling beneath the intensity of his gaze. I hated him. I hated the way he put the fear of God in me, even without having to say a word.

As he stared at me in silence, something dark and consuming, something sinister, flickered in his eyes. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but I knew it was evil. Panic set in, and I could feel my knees quaking, too weak to carry my weight.

The uncertainty of what he was going to do to me, what this act of rebellion was going to cost me, stole my breath. I just stood there, transfixed on the spot and unable to move, the same way I was unable to think.

Chapter 10 – Nik

I watched her from the entrance, my eyes boring into that brown pair of hers. She stood there, frozen in shock, her breath lodged in her throat, and even though she managed to hold my gaze, I could see the panic in her eyes.

I straightened, standing upright with a hand in my pocket, feeding off of her fear. She looked like a child caught sneaking into the kitchen late at night, unsure of the punishment that awaited her.

Her chest heaved slowly, her jaw tightened, and a faint frown settled on her face. She tried to mask her terror, but I could see right through her—I could see the discomfort she struggled so hard to conceal.

Her face grew pale as I moved further into the room, closing the distance between us. The tension in the air thickened the closer I drew to her, anxiety wrapping around her like a noose. However, in a heartbeat, she transformed her fear into rage, her eyes blazing with fury. Her scowl deepened, and she glared at me with a balled fist.

The defiance she exuded was remarkable, and I thought for a second there that she was going to say something sassy. I expected her to fight me, to resist—to be on the offensive or at least craft some clever excuse. But she just stood there, casting an evil eye at me.

My gaze swept across her features as I paused in front of her, my expression dark and unreadable. “Tell me, little Romano,” I began, my voice low and even, yet laced with a hint of venom. “Did you really think that you could get away from me?” I asked, my fingers trailing over the edge of the window, my body serving as a deliberate barrier between her and the outside world.

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