Page 36 of Bratva Prisoner
She stands abruptly, clutching her bag tighter against her chest like armor. “This was a mistake. All of it. I should never have let you take me home that night, and I never should have stayed when every instinct told me to run.”
The regret in her voice makes something dark twist in my stomach, and I have to swallow it down before I can respond. “No, your instincts were right the first time. That’s why you stayed with me. You need my protection, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“I need to be as far away from dangerous men as possible. That includes you as well as Troy.”
Heat erupts in my chest at being lumped in with that bastard. “I’m not like Troy.”
She sputters her lips and asks, “Aren’t you? You both solve problems with violence. You both lie to get what you want. You both think you know what’s best for me without asking my opinion.”
Each word lands like a punch to the gut. I drag a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words to make her understand. “When have I ever—”
“You decided to keep your real identity from me. You decided I needed protection without consulting me first. You decided to bring me to your house, to involve me in your world, to make me complicit in whatever crimes you commit.” Shecounts off on her fingers as she makes each point, and I wince with every finger.
“You’re not complicit in anything.”
“Tell that to the man bleeding in your wine cellar.”
Jordan Portelli deserved everything he got and worse, but Alyssa doesn’t understand that world yet. Maybe she never will.
I lean forward and try to bridge the gap between us with honesty. “He was trying to start a war between my family and two other organizations. He planted bodies in my shipping containers to frame us for murders we didn’t commit at the order of Troy’s boss. Men like that don’t respond to polite conversation.”
“Men like what?” She crosses her arms over her chest, creating another barrier. “Men like you?”
“It was stupid of me to think, even for one section, that I wasn’t like every other woman you’ve slept with and discarded.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper, but the words cut through me like shards of glass. “Maybe I’m just another transaction in your world of violence and corruption.”
“That’s not—”
“My bus leaves in ten minutes,” she interrupts as she makes a show of checking the departure board. “Go home, Maksim. Find someone else to save.”
She starts walking toward the boarding area, and every step she takes feels like a knife twisting in my chest. I should let her go. I should walk away and let her disappear into whatever new life she’s planning. It would be safer for both of us.
Instead, I follow her as my feet move of their own accord.
“Alyssa, wait.” My voice comes out strangled with desperation.
“Stop following me.” She doesn’t turn around, but her pace picks up.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” She spins to face me, and tears are threatening to spill from her eyes.
“Because I—”
The crack of gunfire cuts through the terminal like thunder, and instinct takes over before my brain can process what’s happening. I tackle Alyssa to the ground, covering her body with mine as bullets tear through the space where we were standing seconds before. She shrieks underneath me, and her body goes rigid with shock.
“Stay down,” I bark as I draw my own weapon from the holster beneath my jacket.
Three men in dark clothing are advancing through the terminal, weapons raised and focused on our position. Civilians scream and scatter, diving behind benches and vending machines as chaos erupts around us.
“This way,” I tell Alyssa before I grab her hand and haul her to her feet as I pull her toward the nearest exit.
We run in a crouch, using the rows of seating as cover while bullets whine overhead. My mind locates threats and escape routes on autopilot as we move. Two more gunmen block the main entrance, but there’s a service corridor near the restrooms that should lead to the loading dock.
“Who are they?” Alyssa asks between ragged breaths as we sprint down a narrow hallway lined with utility pipes.
“I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”
The service door leads to an alley behind the terminal, but my car is parked three blocks away in the opposite direction. I can hear shouts and footsteps echoing from inside the building, which means our pursuers are closing in fast.
