Page 19 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

I squinted my eyes and got out of bed, my feet resting on the cool marble floor. Striding across the room, I made my way to the bathroom but hesitated for a second outside the door before grabbing the handle. With a gentle push, the door creaked open, revealing the sleek interior—polished tiles gleaming under the soft lights, a minimalist design with a glossy finish.

Alessia Romano was not in the bathroom, and just like that, my expression darkened, my jaw tightening. I left the bathroom and stood by the entrance, my gaze sweeping across the room as I wondered where the fuck she was. She’d left the room, but there was no sign of her exit. Brilliant but annoying.

I felt rage brewing within me, pissed at the fact that she actually outsmarted me. That was when I spotted it, the air vent near the floor, the metal grate askew, screws barely holding on. A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at my lips. Clever girl. She musthave crawled through the ventilation system like a desperate little mouse.

My face scrunched into a frown, my jaw tightening as my fingers clenched into fists. With a snarl, I spun on my heels and stormed out of the room, the door slamming against the wall. My footsteps pounded on the floor as I hurried down the hallway.

“Where is she? Where is Alessia?” I thundered, my voice echoing off the walls.

Rapid footsteps filled the air as my men rushed to meet with me in the hallway.

Anatoli, head of my security, halted before me, wide-eyed. “We thought she was with you, Boss,” he said, “locked in your room.”

“Well, she’s not there anymore,” I cut in, my voice low and dangerous. “Tell me, Anatoli, how does one disappear from a locked room, huh?”

He lowered his head in shame and fear while the others stood behind him in silence, too afraid to speak.

“Useless!” I cursed, boiling with rage. “What’s the use of having a security detail when they can’t even do their fucking job?!” I growled, deep creases lining my forehead. “Find her!”

“Yes, sir,” Anatoli replied, stuttering.

The men left my presence in fear, scattering in several directions, leaving me to my fury. How could I let this happen? How could I have been so careless that I didn’t see right through her plan? This was the reason she slept with me; it was a fucking distraction. She used me, and I was so blinded by my own lust that I didn’t see it coming. Now, I hated myself for letting her slip through my fingers.

Alessia could already be back at her father’s place for all I knew, meaning that I’d lost the only leverage I had on the Romanos.

“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath, my jaw clenching in anger.

I’d warned her of the consequences of running away, and still, she refused to listen. She not only defied me, but Alessia’s successful escape was a slap to my face. She’d challenged me, and now, she and her entire family would have to face the music. Her defiance had pushed my hand, forcing me to react in a way that could lead to a fucking bloodbath.

She’d learn the hard way that no one escaped me—never. And if she thought she’d gained her freedom, then she was even more delusional than she knew. Alessia only bought herself some time to reunite with her family—nothing more.

I’d hunt her down. And I’d find her.

Chapter 15 – Alessia

It had been weeks already since I ran—escaped Nik’s mansion—and ever since then, he’d haunted my dreams, threatening to come get me. Sleeping at night was almost impossible. I saw him each time I closed my eyes. I heard the sound of his eerie voice whispering the consequences of my defiance.

I was home with my family, and Father was incredibly proud of how I managed to escape my captor all on my own. I should feel some sense of relief—satisfaction and maybe even safety. But instead, I felt…empty. Why was there a void in my stomach, a pit that nothing seemed to fill? I thought that Nik was the problem and that running away from him would somehow make me feel like myself again.

But what did it mean to be me? What did it mean to be Alessia Romano? Was there really anything interesting about me outside the privilege of my last name? Did I even have a life of my own? Didn’t I just escape a prison only to return to another one? What exactly was the difference between being here and being at Nik’s mansion, other than being surrounded by family?

It was a tangled mess in my head, and all of my thoughts were jumbled together. I’d given it a lot of thought since my return, and honestly, I was so confused because nothing seemed to make sense to me anymore. While trapped in Nik’s mansion, my biggest dream was to find a way out. I thought that if I were free of him, everything would somehow return to normal. But now that I had what I craved for—freedom—it was like nothing had changed.

I was back to my old life, boring and completely uninteresting. After my return, Dad was excited at first, buthis joy was short-lived, replaced by anger and resentment. His hatred for Nik Tarasov only waxed stronger, and instead of paying attention to his daughter, he buried himself in work. He’d been cooking up means to get back at Nik, plotting his downfall and making plans to destroy him.

My father was more concerned about his revenge than he was about me, and that didn’t surprise me at all. I just thought that what happened to me would have somehow made him understand the importance of family—the relevance of quality time and bonding. The circumstances behind my kidnapping had opened my eyes to how quickly life moved past us, how suddenly things happened even in the most unlikely of situations.

“As precious as life is, it is unpredictable. One minute you’re here, the next you’re gone.”This was one of the few statements I recalled my mother telling me as a kid. Her passing had helped me understand the meaning behind those words. But nothing was more eye-opening than my own personal experience. If Nik had wanted me dead, I’d have been dead weeks ago, gone in a flash, just like that—puff.

Dad and my brothers were so occupied with their plans to wage war against the Tarasov Bratva that they failed to see what was right in front of them—me. It was almost like I was invisible to them, like I didn’t exist, and the only thing that did was their pride and anger.

Congratulations to me. I’d successfully returned to the place where I was hardly noticed and where my opinions didn’t matter. Nik believed that I was the apple of my father’s eye, that I was his precious gem, and that was why he took me. However, I never felt like I was precious, at least not when around my father.

“Nikita Tarasov will burn for what he did,” Bruno’s voice said, cutting through my thoughts and snapping me back to reality.

I was seated at the long oak table that stretched nearly the length of the room. It was polished to a high gleam, its dark surface reflecting the soft glow of the hanging chandelier. Candles flickering in tall silver holders cast a warm light over crystal glasses and immaculate white plates. The air was filled with the delicious scent of roasted lamb and garlic, mingling with the occasional clinking of cutlery against ceramics.

Dad sat at the head of the dining table like a king, broad-shouldered and sharply dressed in a white tuxedo. He was quiet, but his presence commanded attention with a signature scowl on his face that hinted at the rage simmering beneath the surface.

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