Page 32 of Bratva Prince
My fingers grazed her cheeks, brushing the hair from her face, and I stared at her. Memories from last night clouded my mind and in me grew more resentment with every time I thought of how she pretended to be close to me, pretended to care.
Why was I getting so caught up with these emotions? I’m in the bratva, for fuck’s sake. We don’t react like that.
But her peaceful expression was hard to watch, and I was reminded of the betrayal all over again. It was a vicious cycle, I know.
“Oh, Willow,” I mumbled, stroking my thumb over her lips that I’d so passionately kissed the night before. “We could’ve really had something, you and I.”
It wasn’t hard to spill my guts now that we were alone. Andrey couldn’t hear me and Willow was knocked out. For the first time, I could be honest with myself aloud, without the fear of appearing weak.
“I really liked you,” I said, staring at her unconscious body. “And for me, that’s unheard of. I’ve fucked a lot of women, but none of them compared to you.”
Laughing to myself, I added, “I even thought about seeing you when we went back to Russia. Maybe taking you home to meet my brothers. Foolish, right? Some woman I’d just met on the beach and I was already considering introducing you to my family. And you don’t even know what we are.”
My jaw twitched as irritation set in. “Or, so I thought. But I guess you know all about me, huh? It’s why you plotted against me with Dominik.”
Yes, I’d made the right decision. I would use her like she used me. Crush her dreams like she’d crushed mine. She was the perfect pawn in my game of chess.
It would be a simple transaction—bring her to Moscow, keep her as hostage, and only hand her off to Arman when he agreed to an exchange on my terms—one that would secure my business and destroy his. When he returned my guns, he’d get his precious daughter. And if he didn’t—I’d kill them both.
I turned away, unable to look at her any longer. Her sleeping face only brought me disgust, and I refused to be tormented by her.
“Ivan,” Andrey called out, his voice panicked.
I rushed to the front, bursting through the door.
“We’re losing oil pressure, and fast! It’s dropped significantly. Pair that with the fuel leak and we’re fucked! If we don’t want the bitch to catch on fire, I need to shut off the engines.”
“A fuel leakandan oil leak? I’m gonna kill the son of a bitch who gave my jet the okay to fly. Shut off the engine and get us down, Andrey.” Glancing out the window, I saw flames engulfing the right wing near the engine. “Too late.”
Beads of sweat trickled down his face as he shut off both engines. “Get in the back and strap up. We’re dead sticking this bitch and I don’t know how easy I can land this thing.”
Doing as he said, I ran to the back. The jet jerked through the air, and I tumbled over, crashing into the same table Willow had hit earlier.
Karma was a bitch, alright.
I’d managed to carry Willow to one of the seats and strap her in. Not because I wanted her to be safe, but because I needed her to be alive for the transaction.
Or, at least, that’s what I’d told myself.
Once I was certain she was secured tight, I put on my own seatbelt. I had to trust in Andrey’s ability to land.
This is it. Either we make it or we don’t.
The jet hit the tops of the trees and when it jerked, my head banged against the window, knocking me out cold.
* * *
My eyes fluttered open,the bright sun blinding me.Where was I?Rubbing my head—which hurt like a bitch—I pulled my hand away to see blood.
Fuck, I was bleeding from my head? That couldn’t be good. Wait—whywas I bleeding?
I’m strapped in. Is this my jet?
Son of a bitch.
It’s demolished—split in fucking half! Damn… I loved that jet, too. Called her Mrs. Robinson because she was my oldest treasure, but a beauty, nonetheless. And now she was torn apart.
Pieces of the crash were coming back to me. I remembered being in the jet with Andrey and—her. Willow. The new bane of my existence.
