Page 38 of The Bratva's Auctioned Bride
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I promise her.
She nods, staring blankly at her holiday bag. “Sure,” she replies, then turns to look at me.
Her eyes have a strange strength in them.
“Are you going to be ok here alone?”
“You said it was safe, so why wouldn’t I be?” she sasses.
“Alright. I was just asking,” I say defensively.
She reaches out to hold the door, half pushing it closed. “You’d better get going,” she tells me.
I step back, knotting my brows as she gently closes the door in my face.
What in the world just happened? Did she just kick me out of my own penthouse?
I don’t have time to dwell on it, though. The sooner I deal with the issues, the sooner I can get back to her and try to figure out what’s wrong.
Driving to the warehouse, I’m pulling my thoughts away from our island magic and back into work mode. A miserable task, but I have to do it.
As soon as I park outside, the warehouse manager comes running out. His face is knotted with stress. When I push the car door open and step onto the graveled, a sour smell invades my nostrils.
“What is that?” I ask, scrunching my nose.
“It’s a chemical bomb, sir. Custom-made so it’ll either be easier or more difficult to trace, depending on what they used to make it. The analyst took a sample last night, and it’s not harmful on its own, but when it mixes with the product, it destroys it. Turns it into poison. We have to dispose of everything.”
“Fuck,” I murmur. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Yes, unfortunately, three men were in range when the bomb went off, and when the products went airborne in the explosion, mixed together, they breathed it in and… they didn’t make it, sir. Their lungs… dissolved. Some of the other guys came in contact afterward, and they sustained chemical burns.”
“That’s terrible,” I growl, horrified at how low people are willing to go to damage products. Why choose this method? Why not destroy it in a way that doesn’t harm people?
“And now? What happens if someone gets too close now? Have you cordoned off the area? I can’t have any more of my men exposed to this stuff.”
“If you touch the product now, it causes skin irritation, horribly uncomfortable, but no longer deadly. The guys doing the clean-up are wearing hazmat suits.”
I sigh, pushing my hand through my hair in agitation. This is fucked up. On a whole new level.
“First, I want to make sure the guys who need medical attention are getting it. Then, show me where the attackers got in. And I’d like to see the video footage too; please send it to my home computer.
I’m about to follow the floor manager into the warehouse when I see her. My jaw drops open, and I storm toward her as she climbs out of the car. She’s changed into a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt that hugs her body.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snap. Something sparks inside of me. Something unfamiliar, and I realize it’s fear. Not for myself, but for her. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to her.
Angelika tilts her head to the side, her mouth set, her eyes fierce. “I came to see if I could help.”
“Angel, this place is dangerous, you can’t be here,” I say tightly. My body is flooding with anxiety for her safety. She doesn’t even understand what she’s walking into in there.
“You need to go home. I told you to stay at home,” I demand, desperation flooding me.
“Oh, and you’re such a good example of doing what you’re told,” she smiles, a little cocky, challenging me.
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. She has a point.
“Aren’t you the one who taught me not to be afraid? To be bold? To follow my instincts?” she says.
“Yes, but…” I stammer.Not if it means you might get hurt.
