Page 35 of The Bratva's Captive

With a loud grunt, Lenny dropped to his knees. My hero kicked the back of Lenny’s knee to achieve that.

His dark-brown stare locked on me. The sight of me just recently struck and ducking in defense like this seemed to flip a switch in him. Rabid anger swirled in his dark gaze, but it wasn’t an omen of his adding on to my misery. Instead, as I whimpered in pain, so confused and bewildered by his showing up like this, he channeled his fury to Lenny.

He gritted his teeth, making the tendons and veins in his neck strain.

I watched, worried I was imagining his appearance. Nothing could explain him here, now. This was backstage, not a VIP party where I first saw him as a guest.

But he was here. This was real. Shifting his violent attention to Lenny, he punched him in the gut until Lenny gurgled, lurching forward from the intense hit.

Then before I could ask a question or utter a single word, I watched in horror as he placed his hands on either side of the manager’s head and thrust his arms inward.

A distinct crack sounded.

Lenny’s arms fell limp.

Another wave of nausea threatened me, but in a flash, as I drew in one more breath, I lost the fight to stay awake. Blacking out, I surrendered to gravity and slumped over.

16

MAXIM

All it took for me to snap was the sight of this gorgeous woman cowering from this asshole beating her.

Rage filled me.

How dare he?

One look at the fear blazing in her green gaze made me lose the thin thread I had left on my control.

Seeing Sloane caught in another bad position pissed me off. Without needing to know any details, I identified her as a victim and knew it wasn’t right.

She was a stranger. I was only familiar with her name and how good she felt. I was also aware of the staying power she had on me, tempting me to think about her obsessively after our one encounter.

But that didn’t matter. Iwantedto know her more than the slim experience we shared.

When I showed up a half hour ago and spotted her on stage, staggering like she was ill, I was determined to see what waswrong. I ran out to my driver and ordered him to wait in the back while another soldier knocked out the security guard so I could enter. After following her backstage and finding her struck and threatened by this greasy drunk asshole whose neck I just cracked with my bare hands, I was confident I wasn’t through with her yet.

I wasn’t even close to being done with her.

How fucking dare you?I seethed, staring at the dead man for another second, making sure he wasn’t coming back.

Like hell are you going to beat her.

I caught my breath from the thrill that filled me after a kill. It wasn’t right. I was a sick bastard to enjoy ending another’s life, but now wasn’t the time for self-reflection of why I was the monster I was.

“Sloane?” I stared at her as I let go of the man who would never hurt her again.

She didn’t reply. She was out, slumping down the wall until she rested on the sticky floor. In this cluttered backstage space that held the stinking smells of perfume and hair product, along with spilled booze, she stayed in place, eyes closed.

“Sloane.”

Still nothing.

I grew more worried at her unconscious status. Maybe she wasn’t used to the hard side of life and hadn’t witnessed someone being killed. But she couldn’t be a complete innocent, working here and being a stripper. Death was something trickier to acclimate to. To accept. At first.

I have to get her out of here.

If she was weak or ill?—

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