Page 37 of The Bratva's Forced Kidnapped Bride
Okay, maybe there was something I hated more than wanting Anatoli. It was admitting I screwed up. I acted rashly by gunning down Enzo Santino, but when I thought my family was in danger, I lost perspective. And my damn mind.
Hearing the door handle, I shook myself out of my self-recrimination, hid the whip under the back of my shirt, and scrambled out of the closet. It was only a guard bringing me a tray of food, and he didn’t stay to talk; he simply set it on the desk and left without a word.
Turning to the window, I realized it was growing dark. I had been searching the room in vain for longer than I thought. Anatoli would have been able to get back to LA, but I had no idea how long it’d take to deal with the cleanup and aftermath. He could be back any minute or—
Never.
It hit me like a ton of bricks that Enzo’s father, Julio, might already be aware his son hadn’t shown up for his afternoon meetings and that no one could get a hold of him. He might be actively searching for him and connected the dots. Nobody knew about me; they only knew Enzo was meeting with Anatoli that morning. I’d been paying attention long enough to know Anatoli had a problem with his new crew being as loyal asthey should be, and it would only take one loudmouth thinking he’d get paid to sell out his boss.
So, Anatoli might even be dead by now.
Why didn’t that thought have me jumping for joy? Instead, my stomach churned, making the seared tuna taste like ashes. What was this awful feeling? Surely I wasn’t worried. And I definitely didn’t feel guilty.
Worn out from the last few days, I took a shower and fell into bed, keeping the whip close to hand. I hardly slept a wink, tossing and turning most of the night. When I did manage to drift off, I jerked awake, thinking I heard a gunshot or a shout in Anatoli’s voice. I finally got out of bed as sunlight was just beginning to peek through the curtains, and paced the floor wearing Anatoli’s robe. Not because it smelled like him, because it was super plush, and he hadn’t had any of my things transferred over since he had ensconced me in his own room.
Tugging the soft fabric up around my neck, I sank my nose down into it, breathing deeply and trying to keep my mind blank. I didn’t care if Anatoli was dead. It would be better for me if he were. Two birds with one stone.
So why was I pacing after a rotten night’s sleep?
When the lock clicked and the door handle turned again, I barely paused in my trip from one side of the room to the other, thinking it was another guard bringing my breakfast.
“It’s taken care of.”
I whirled around to see Anatoli, alive and well and without a single glossy black hair out of place. Something gusted through me, hot and strong, making me clench my fists and relax my tense shoulders at the same time.
“What?” I asked, hungry for news. “How?”
He smirked. “Instead of getting rid of it, I had the body moved and made it look like a Fokin killed him.”
Not the news I wanted to hear. What the hell? It was technically true, but it put my family in danger. He looked way too pleased with himself, thinking this was a perfect outcome, and a funny joke on top of everything. I could read his thoughts like they were spelled out all over his handsome, smug face. Now the Fokins and the Collective would go to war and destroy each other, leaving the playing field open for him to take over.
And I was worried about this man?
Furious, I grabbed the whip from under my pillow and flew at him, lashing his face and shoulders. The ridiculous toy was meant for pleasure, not pain, and after a moment of annoyed swatting, he easily got it away from me, locking both my wrists in one of his big hands. The next moment, I was pinned to the bed, thrashing with impotent rage.
Looming over me, he stared down, his eyes like an overcast sky. His hand tightened around my wrists as he leaned closer. “This was all your doing,” he said calmly, completely in control. “You’re only angry at yourself this time, not me for once.” His gaze dropped to my heaving chest, then a slow smile curled his lips. “But I’m willing to let you take out some of your frustration on me.” He dangled the whip over my head.
I went still, my heart pounding, blood racing. Slowly, he released my wrists, sliding his fingertips down my arm as he leaned closer. I was caged by his arms as he lowered his head, his lips close to mine. Shoving my hands into his hair, I pulled him the scant inch closer so our mouths collided.
I arched into him as he burrowed his hand behind my neck, his other hand sliding down my side. Now I wish I weren’t wearing the thick, plush robe. I needed the heat of his hand onmy skin. The scent of the ocean mingled with his cologne, along with the dry desert, was much better than the faint whiffs from his clothes. I turned my head to the side and breathed him in as he dragged his lips to my throat. Throwing his leg over my body, he tugged aside the neckline of the robe to kiss lower.
“Feel better yet?” he murmured.
My eyes flew open, my brain struggling to get my body under control. This was the man I’d tossed and turned over, all while he was out setting up a war between his two biggest rivals, one of which was my own family. I was writhing under the man who wanted to destroy them, gasping for his touch and his mouth. It didn’t matter a single bit to him if any or all of my cousins were killed. And I was happily kissing him. Just about to beg for more.
With a groan that had him smiling as he brought his mouth down on mine, I dragged my knee up as hard as I could. As soon as he rolled off me, balled up in a heap of pain, I jumped off the bed and fled to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking myself in.
Splashing cold water over my face didn’t help calm my blinding rage. Pacing didn’t help, and I wouldn’t scream and give him the satisfaction. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I pressed my hands into my stomach to stop the acidic roiling of my self-blame. He was right. I wasn’t really angry at him, but at myself, because I set it all up for him with one rash, thoughtless move. That was the bitterest pill to swallow, even worse than wishing that he was still kissing me.
Chapter 28 - Anatoli
The world seemed to blink out of existence when she tried to cripple me. By the time I was able to sit up, Masha was firmly locked in the bathroom. “Coward,” I roared, storming out as best I could after that killer knee to the balls.
What the hell?
I locked the bedroom door behind me and went down to the basement. I had all set up for her, but never got around to using it. I was seriously considering using it right now. Running my fingers over the tools, still laid out on the table from the first time I brought her here to show her what was in store, I looked at the chair she’d been tied to.
Closing my eyes, I pictured her there now, chained and as helpless as I was when I was the Fokins’ prisoner. Hadn’t I despised her then? It was hard to remember. Surely I still despised her now. Didn’t I?
