Page 73 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

A lump forms in my throat and I swallow to push it down.

I never thought I’d use the word love to describe an emotion I feel, but I can’t convince myself that I feel anything less for her.

My biggest fear is her not loving me the same way I do…the same way she did when she confessed her feelings to me a year ago.

Maybe I’ve loved her since then and I just didn’t know, and rather than accept her feelings, I broke her heart.

Pain splinters through my chest, a pang of guilt and regret resting heavily there. I’ll make it up to her. I promise.

My phone rings and Ruslan’s name flashes on my screen. I step outside to answer.

“How is she?” he asks.

“Sleeping, but the doctor said she’s fine.” I pause, the low tone of his voice registering with the screaming and noise in the background. “Are you okay?”

“Voyeur was raided by Serrano’s men,” he says. “You need to come over.”

Every muscle in my body goes still. “How bad is it?”

His silence lasts barely two seconds, and then he sighs. “It’s gone.”

***

Voyeur is barely recognizable.

Half the building has collapsed inward. The massive glass façade I imported from Italy is nothing more than glittering rubble scattered across the parking lot. Firefighters are still spraying water onto pockets of flame that refuse to die, while paramedics weave through the wreckage pushing stretchers toward waiting ambulances.

In just one night, one hour, the biggest piece of my empire has been reduced to ruins.

I step out of the SUV and heat immediately rolls over my skin.

The air tastes like ash.

Rubble crunches beneath my shoes as I walk forward, every step slower than the last. Around me, my soldiers are already securing the perimeter, dragging wounded men away from the debris while others search desperately for survivors buried beneath twisted steel beams.

Ruslan rushes toward me, his face black with smoke. His hair is tangled and disheveled. He never looks anything but put together, even when he kills ten men at once.

I narrow my eyes at the blood smeared all over his shirt, worried that he’s wounded. His eyes follow mine, and a tired smile plays on his lips.

“It’s not mine.”

I sigh with relief. “What happened?”

“The Mexicans happened.” His breathing is ragged. “One minute everything was peaceful and happy. The next there was an explosion, followed by gunshots.”

So this was Emiliano’s plan all along.

It was never to use Audrey to get something on me, though that would’ve been a plus. What he wanted all along was to use her as a distraction. He knew I’d come to her with my men, and he had this planned.

And like a rat, I walked straight into his trap.

A violent, thrumming vibration shudders beneath my skin, turning my blood to jagged ice.

“How many were injured?”

“Twenty-three.”

I swallow, my fists clenching so hard that I can feel my nails digging into my palms. “And the dead?”