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But the moment I can breathe again, the second oxygen burns my lungs, I lunge toward the door. I just need to run, to hide. If I disappear properly, they won’t be able to find me this time.
They won’t—
A hand wraps around my wrist with brute force and I’m helpless, absolutely powerless when that same force yanks me back.
I stumble and nearly fall on my face, but the same hold keeps me upright with effortless ease. As if this is a normal occurrence for them. Who am I kidding? It is normal.
The likes of him kidnap, torture, and kill for the mere fun of it.
My insides crumble to my feet and my heart beats out of rhythm.
This is just a nightmare, right? The worst nightmare possible.
If I blink, I’ll wake up and put this whole thing behind me.
But when I slam my eyes shut and open them again, reality crashes into me with no introductions or preparation.
My gaze meets the one who’s grabbing me savagely. Aleksander. The same Aleksander who I should’ve known wouldn’t just forget that incident in the restaurant from a few weeks ago.
He stares at me blankly, his light eyes resembling an icy storm, not to be budged or survived. They’re the same as his hold on me—merciless, savage, and with a coldness that will soon freeze me to death.
And that’s not the worst part.
No matter how violent and efficient Aleksander is, he’s only the right-hand man of a much more dangerous opponent.
And sure enough, when I look ahead, I find his boss. One of the four kings, the most secretive, the most cunning, and the one who might as well be the deadliest.
Kirill sits on my sofa, flipping through one of the takeout menus. But seeing him isn’t what nearly makes me go into a full on panic mode.
It’s the fact that he’s not alone.
Beside him is the strongest man in theBratva. Some even say he’s more powerful than my father. He’s not only the strategist and the brains, but he’s also the most ruthless man I’ve ever known.
Adrian Volkov.
And he’s going through my spare laptop, his fingers typing at supersonic speed.
Shit. Shit.
“Come join us, princess,” Kirill says with absolute nonchalance, still flipping through the menus. “Let her go, Sasha.”
Aleksander—whose nickname in Russian is Sasha—shoves me forward and I wince as I massage my wrist.
“Now, Sasha,” Kirill reprimands in a tone that suggests he’s used to his senior guard’s brute ways. “No hurting thePakhan’s only daughter…yet.”
My lips tremble, but it’s not just because of Kirill’s unveiled threat or the fact that he and Aleksander found me, it’s Adrian.
I can’t stop looking at him, even though he hasn’t acknowledged my existence yet. He’s tall, dark, and has an imposing presence that sparks fear without him having to do anything.
His reputation precedes him. Of all people, I’m well aware of how he erases his enemies when they show the slightest bit of disrespect. Anyone in the world I came from avoids his wrath with any means necessary. The moment he puts someone in his sights, they might as well be considered dead.
One thing’s for certain: his loyalty only lies with theBratvaand his family.
And as a runaway, I don’t belong to theBratvaanymore. So if he chooses to, he could shoot me in the head and cover up the whole incident as if it didn’t happen.
Kirill will sure as hell take his side, not mine. Especially since he’s been not-so-subtly eyeing my father’s position for a while now.
Everyone in theBratvahas.
