Page 89 of Captive Prize

We were in probably the most misogynistic occupation in the world.

Organized crime was literally a boys’ club.

The women were left at home raising the family, not in the streets running and earning.

“Okay,” Pavel said finally. “I get it. She is gorgeous, she is strong, and everything she did was impressive as fuck. There’s just that one little thing. That one thing that just fucks up all of it.”

“And what’s that?”

“She tried to kill me. She was the one paying off Solovyov. The one who put everything in motion. All the shit we had to deal with in the last year was because of her. We did not target her. Zoya targeted us. She made us her enemy. No one is going to forget that.”

“You don’t get it,” I said, getting back on my feet.

“No, you don’t get it.”

Pavel rose to his feet, balancing on his crutches. Rising to meet my gaze with fire and anger.

“Let me remind you…again.She almost killed my wife and my unborn child.”

“They are both fine,” I yelled.

“Zoya is our enemy. She could have made a name for herself going after any other family or even building something completely new. She has the means, and she is clearly capable. You can’t stop this. She chose this path, and if you follow her down it, you are an enemy, too.”

I scoffed and took a step away from Pavel.

His hand shot out, grabbing my good shoulder. I stopped to look at him.

“Don’t turn your back on us and choose her. We aren’t turning away from you. Don’t run from us.”

“Are you going to stop me?” I asked. “Are you going to take away my only chance to have something like what you have with your wife?”

I kept my tone quiet, calm even.

But the challenge was still there.

He saw it.

He understood that he could try to stop me, but I was going regardless.

Pavel exhaled heavily, dragging a hand down his face as he let go of my shirt.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I need to find out. I can’t live without knowing.”

“Fuck.” Pavel sat back down. “Fine, I won’t stop you. Hell, I don’t think I could if I wanted to. But when you find her, tell her she owes me a car.”

“You got it.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he called after me as I started stalking toward my vehicle, ready to go get her back.

“That makes two of us,” I returned over my shoulder.

“Good luck, cousin.”

That was all I needed to hear. At least one of them still had my back.

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