Page 73 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
It’s only a matter of time before Nik sends over the information we need, but a near-blinding pain pounds against my temples in the meantime.
My nerves are completely shot, and my mind is set on only one thing.
She’s one of ours, regardless of how rocky the past few months have been for her.
She’s my wife, my future, and the mother of my child.
If Maxim thinks this will be his winning move, then he’s an even bigger jackass than I originally thought.
He’ll go down regardless, but if he hurts Lily even more than he already has, then everything he has will burn with him.
Chapter 25 - Lily
My wrists burn from the rope being done up too tight.
Every subtle movement causes them to dig into my skin deeper, cutting in with those small but sharp fibers.
I try to keep quiet and still, but everything in me is screaming to do something. To move, to run, to fight if I have to. Just something.
But my head aches, and the gag in my mouth smells and tastes like oil, as if it’s been used already. Tears burn in my eyes, and I force myself not to lose my mind completely, but it feels so much harder while breathing that filth in.
My left side leans against a cold steel wall while my hands rest in my lap, and while my vision is still somewhat hazy, while pain roars behind my temples, I can still see what looks like the open double doors of a shipping container.
The air is so still inside the container that every breath sounds loud in my ears, and every noise outside reverberates, keeping me on edge.
In the distance, I can hear muffled voices, the sound of boots against the tarmac, and the soft clink of weapons. I’m alone in here, but out there, I can only imagine how many people are moving around.
This is everything I never wanted to be a part of. Everything I considered a nightmare ever since the reality of what Wyatt had been involved in finally got back to me.
It’s even worse than that because I’m not an active participant. I’m not someone who signed their life away to serve a gang or some family. Instead, I’ve been taken and bound, and surely, I’m meant to be a message or collateral.
I thought I was done with that fear, and I thought marrying Mikhail was supposed to be my security.
Now, I don’t know anything, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get out of this.
Time means nothing as I sit here, feeling my shoulder ache from leaning against it while the rest of my body goes numb. I have no idea how long I’ve been here, and that concept is especially hazy, considering I’ve been in and out of consciousness the whole time.
Eventually, I hear steps approaching the container, and one door opens a bit more, letting in harsh beams from the floodlights overhead. The figure of someone steps inside, making me freeze immediately.
I squint to try and adjust my eyes to the shift in brightness, and a masculine shape moves closer. He’s tall and built like a brick wall with a hard face.
My heart picks up as he approaches me, but before I can even attempt to move, he pulls the gag down, giving me immediate relief from the horrible-tasting material. A plastic bottle crinkles in his grasp while he lifts it, pouring water down my throat without any warning.
I cough and sputter on the immediate stream as it soaks the front of my dress, but I drink anyway.
The man stares at me, but nothing moves through his eyes, betraying no thoughts. He doesn’t say a word, and he doesn’t untie me. Then he’s gone again.
Panting quietly, I’m left alone in the container, trying to calm my racing heart after the quick exchange.
When I don’t see anyone else, I let go of a shaky breath and lean against the wall again.
As much as I want to assume this has all happened by chance, I know that isn’t true. It’s not random at all. It’s planned.
Because of Mikhail. Because of my connection to him.
He tried so hard to convince me I didn’t have to worry about a thing as his wife. He made it seem like I had complete immunity because of him, but he was wrong.
One minute, I was jealous at the sight of those women surrounding him, and the next, I woke up bound inside an empty shipping container. I was ambushed and taken.
