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I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to go down.
I force myself to breathe as my eyes dart between both brothers in the room. Mikhail is still leaning against the countertop, his arms now crossed over his broad chest, his expression unreadable. Glancing back to Nikolai, I somehow manage to find my voice, opening my mouth to speak.
“I…I thought you were Bratva…”
His eyes narrow as his gaze sharpens.
He doesn’t even move, and he doesn’t even blink, but his presence feels larger, heavier as it closes in all around me.
“And why,” he says slowly, “Chiara, would you ever think that?”
My tongue feels heavy in my mouth, but I force the words out anyway.
“They way you look…” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “...your accents…the way you both speak to each other sometimes…” I look over to Mikhail, noticing him shift slightly. “I thought you were Bratva the minute I realised I would be taken.”
My heart is beating so hard, I’m sure they can both hear it.
For a moment, neither one of them speaks.
Nikolai leans back into his chair, his lips pressing into a thin line. His expression is impossible to read, and there’s a sharpness in his eyes, a glint of something dangerous. Mikhail stalks towards us, and I see a flicker of a glance being exchanged between both brothers.
It’s quick—so quick that I almost miss it—but it’s there. A silent conversation is passing between them, something unspoken, but something understood.
They don’t confirm what I’ve told them, and they don’t deny it either. The uncertainty of their identities only makes my stomach hurt harder.
What does their silence mean?
Am I right?
Are they really Bratva?
I squeeze my hands, ignoring the way it hurts when my fingernails dig into my palms. My head spins, making me feel a little lightheaded, as my thoughts run wild.
Finally, Nikolai looks back to me, letting out a quiet, and almost amused, hum.
“Interesting of you to say that, darling.”
Mikhail chuckles at his brother’s words, the sound of it dark and humourless.
My chest tightens as both brothers share another look, one I can’t decipher passing between them. The tension in the room thickens as I wait for them to say something—anything—but they don’t.
They look at me, mockingly, and deep down, I know that I’ve only made things worse for myself. It takes all of me to continue forcing the words out, desperate to get to the bottom of this.
“I thought…” I lift my head, looking between both men again. “I thought you planned to take me for a reason. That maybe, you both would use me for a ransom. I thought things would move quickly from then.”
The scrape of a chair being pushed back is heard, and as I look over at Nikolai, I see him standing up from the table.
He doesn’t say anything to that, and he doesn’t interrupt me either. For some reason, that only makes my stomach twist tighter.
“I still have no idea why you’ve brought me here.” I release a shaky breath, pressing my palm to my stomach. “You say you want me, and you say you have me. You haven’t done anything though.” My voice falters slightly, my throat tight with emotion. “Why am I here? Why?!”
Neither Nikolai, nor Mikhail, answers me.
My breathing quickens as panic slowly creeps up on me.
My family.
The thought of them sends a sharp pain through my chest.