Page 70 of Owned By the Bratva

“No!” I scream. “Tell me what the hell is going on!”

Mother huffs, her eyes cold and unfeeling. “You think I would ever willingly make peace with the Antonovs? You’re a damn fool, Alina. Your marriage was supposed to be temporary to buy me enough time to gather my troops.”

My throat closes. Oh,God.

“You used me to buy yourself time?” I say around a sob.

Mother’s face twists into a sneer. “I tried to get you out sooner. I thought those pictures I had taken of you and leaked to the press would have driven Pyotr to end the marriage, but it seems your husband’s far more understanding than I first thought.”

“Yousent the drone?” I don’t know whether to scream or cry. “You’re the fucking devil. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You don’t have a choice, Alina. Now get your ass on the plane, or I’ll have my guards drag you on.”

“No!”

I break away, Mother’s nails shredding my skin. I make a mad dash for the car. Two of her guards try to grab me, but I manage to slip their grasp. I yank open the car door and throw myself behind the wheel, my hands shaking so badly I can barely shift gears.

Outside, I hear Mother screech my name, but I don’t listen. I have to get back to Pyotr. I have to warn him that this was Mother’s plan all along. I should have known peace between our families couldn’t be so easily brokered. Mother is too proud, too stubborn. She’s a disease, one that wants to claim anything and everything in her path. If I can get back to Pyotr, maybe he can warn his brothers before it’s too late.

I slam my foot against the gas pedal and veer off—

But not before the guards start shooting.

One bullet. Two. Three.

The fourth pierces the back window, sending little shards of glass flying everywhere. I try to keep low to avoid being hit, but my view is limited because of it. I try to drive away, but the harshbangof a tire bursting sends the car into a tailspin. Are they trying to fuckingkillme?

Bang!Another one of my tires goes out. I’m riding on rims now, the angry screech of metal against the pavement screaming in my ears. I lose control of the car, the front-end crunching into a metal lamp post. I haven’t given up hope yet. If Mother wants to take me back to Russia, it’s going to have to be in a body bag because there’s no way in hell I’d ever let her take me alive.

I’ve had enough of her manipulation. Her cruelty. She sees me as nothing more than an object to use and discard at will.

Pyotr and I may not have a perfect marriage, but at least he cared for me. Before he came into my life, arranged or otherwise, I never knew kindness. When I’m with Pyotr, I know I’m safe. Mother means to cut me off from the one shining ray of hope in my life. I’d rather die than let her lock me away again.

I throw the car into reverse. The engine starts smoking. Thick black plumes rise from the crushed hood of the car. No matter how many times I rev the engine, the vehicle won’t respond. I think the transmission is totaled.

One of Mother’s guards yanks open the door and drags me out of my seat by the hair. I scream, clawing at his hands.

“Fuck you!” I seethe. “Fucking let go of me! You can’t do this!” When Mother is—unsurprisingly—unmoved by my pleas, I turn to Ben. “Please, help me! It’s not too late. I won’t tell Pyotr, just get me out of here!”

Ben shakes his head, looking sick. “I’m sorry, Alina. Your mother pays way better than Pyotr does.”

I scream at the top of my lungs. I kick and I scratch—all to no avail. I’m thrown over one of the guard’s shoulders like I’m nothing more than a sack of flour and dragged onto the plane. As I’m carried on, I watch as Mother approaches Ben.

“A pleasure doing business with you,” she says sweetly.Toosweetly.

“Yes, thank you—”

Mother draws a gun from her pocket and aims it directly at Ben’s chest. Before he has the chance to react, Mother pulls the trigger. The loud flash and bang fills me with dread. Ben slumps to the ground, red blooming across his chest as his shirt stains with blood. Without remorse, Mother tucks her gun away and bends down to pick up the briefcase full of money. I scream. At least, I think I do. He might have betrayed me, but he didn’t deserve to be murdered so cold-heartedly.

I’m indignantly shoved into a seat and forcefully restrained. They use layer upon layer of duct tape to bind me to the chair. For good measure, Mother walks straight up and slaps a thick piece over my lips, but I scream anyway.

I’m going to make this the worst fucking flight she’s ever had.

Chapter 30

Pyotr

“Alina?”

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