Page 6 of Kidnapped By the Mafia Boss
I assumed my stalker had deserted me tonight. Then, I realized I had dinner with my stalker.
My eyes roll back in my head.
My last thought before it all goes black: I havetwo stalkers.
3
DIMITRI
I cup her head just in time to prevent her from hurting herself as she passes out.
That svolach will pay for this. Hedruggedher. My zayka, my little bunny rabbit. He was going to hurt her, and now she’s floppy as I scoop her into my arms.
Fuck. Emerging from the bathroom, the coward has run away. I’d be tempted to race after him and inflict all the pain in the world onto him if I didn’t have more important things to do. Namely, care for Jenna.
I stride out of the hotel, glaring at the unlucky guests in the way, and carry her to the anonymous SUV.
It’s awkward to open the passenger door with Jenna held securely, lower the seat back and put on her seatbelt, but I manage it in part because she hardly weighs anything and also because I’m not calling anyone—not a paramedic or even my own loyal men—to help. No one touches her but me.
I’ve been far too lenient. I’ve kept my distance because she’s young and I’m a grizzled old Bratva boss. I’ve told myself it was enough to watch her—stalk her—from afar.
But it’s not. And from now on, any man who touches her dies. Starting with her date.
Ignoring the impulse to stroke Jenna’s cheek, I only check her breathing. Then I’m driving too fast across London and growling as the Rotherhithe mafia doctor takes three whole rings to answer his phone. Lazy shit.
“Where are you?” I demand. Matvey is discreet, excellent at stitching up gunshot wounds, and pulling medicines out of his suitcase that probably aren’t legal but are absolutely useful.
“At your estate in Kent?—”
I swear and turn at the next corner, heading south. I was going to my operational base in Rotherhithe but instead I’ll have to drive out of London to obtain the medical attention Jenna needs.
“Get everything ready,” I order. “She’s been drugged. I think it’s a simple roofie, but I’ll want tests run. She gets the best treatment. She’s your only priority.”
“Yes, Boss. Who?—”
I shut the call, not prepared to answer questions about who Jenna is and why I, a notoriously grumpy and loner kingpin, who never indulges in women or drink or any of the vices associated with my trade, is suddenly fawning over a slip of a girl.
Next, I call my head of operations, Arkadi.
“All resources to searching for this man,” Arkadi repeats as I quick-fire instructions. “Understood. What’s his name?”
“Howard. Probably.”
There’s a brief silence. “I assume ‘Probably’ isn’t his surname.”
“No.” I’m impatient, but can hardly blame Arkadi for asking. This isn’t usual. “He’s blond. Looks like a stick insect, and likes to date rape women.”
“Pizdets. Not much to go on.”
“Do your best,” I reply grimly. And moments later there’s just the sound of the road and my tapping fingers on the steeringwheel as I ignore the speed limits getting out of the sprawling city of London.
I have to find and dispose of Howard quickly. I could make up reasons about how resources need to be reallocated back to our usual protection jobs, but it’s actually that him breathing in the worldoffendsme.
He touched my girl. He has to die.
I really don’t want to do this… Never thought there would be anything so important that I couldn’t deal with it myself. But right now, my priority is Jenna.
As the phone trills my misgivings continue.
