Page 7 of A Bride for the Bratva Boss
He steps closer and his hot alcohol breath hits my cheek. He grabs my wrist, again, so hard this time it burns.
I flinch, trying to twist free. Panic slams into my chest.
His fingers dig hard. “Stop playing hard to get,” he snaps. “I know your kind. Shaking your ass for the customers, but then pretending you’re not interested when a guy takes you up on what you’re selling.
My eyes get hot from unshed tears and the back of my throat tickles. Like always, I try to de-escalate, to negotiate. “Let’s talk, okay? There’s been a misunderstanding.” My voice shakes.
His grip tightens. “We’ll talk. And this time we’re not going to get interrupted.” He starts pulling me toward the back of the dumpsters.
I claw at his grip and bite the inside of my lip, tasting blood on my tongue. “No,” I scream, even though I know there’s nobody around to hear me. But this can’t be it.
I refuse to lose my virginity through rape. And so I scream and I claw.
The asshole curses as he keeps dragging me.
And then heavy footsteps echo behind me in a measured, deliberate rhythm.
I freeze, my heart pounding loudly, not sure if I’m about to be saved or hurt worse.
A tall man steps out of the shadows, backlit by the orange glow of the parking lot lamp.
My breath catches. It’s Danyl.
He doesn’t look at me. His cold blue gaze focuses on my attacker. “Release her,” he says, the crisp British accent he used before sounds different, more brutal, less contained.
The asshole doesn’t let go of me, but he takes a step back. “This doesn’t concern you.”
Danyl steps closer, his arms hang lose by his sides, but his hand clenches and the street light illuminate pale scars on his knuckles. “Everything about Liza concerns me.”
“She’s just a waitress. And I think you’re bluffing about the Kedrovs caring about her.” The man steps behind me. “But it doesn’t matter because you’re not the only one with connections.”
The tendons in Danyl’s neck stands out as his jaw locks tight. “I warned you before about what would happen if you touched her again,” he growls.
My attacker hesitates and I use the distraction to pull my arm back. But before I can get free, he shoves me against the hood and grabs my throat. “If you don’t leave, I’ll hurt her for real. The creep tightens his grip, cutting off my air.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Danyl move so fast he’s but a blur of violence.
Using the hood of the car as leverage, he knees the guy in the gut. The air whistles out of his lungs, but he pulls a knife out if his pocket.
Danyl grabs the man’s arm and the blade flashes in the orange light from the streetlight as they grapple for dominance.
My lungs seize.
“Stay back,” Danyl orders me as he twists the man’s wrist back.
Bones snap and the knife falls in slow motion.
My attacker screams out his pain as the blade bounces, and then lies still by my feet.
I hear my own breath, fast and ragged. Blood roaring in my ears, I snatch up the knife, hands slick with fear.
Still in Danyl’s grip, but filled with desperate rage, my attacker spins around.
Danyl curses in a foreign language as he’s forced away from me.
It happens so fast, I have no time to react before a hand grabs my hair and pulls hard.
Head pulled back and throat exposed, I swing the blade without aim. I just want to escape the pain from the pull on my hair.
