Page 34 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

I crouch lower behind the hedge, my hand trembling as it grips the pistol I swiped.

What the hell am I even doing? There’s got to be at least a dozen guards out here, all of them armed to the teeth. Me? I’ve got shaky hands and zero aim. I will be of no help.

The helicopter blades slow, the noise giving way to the muffled sounds of Christian’s boots on the stone courtyard as he strides toward my dad. My eyes dart to Alexei, tied up and bloodied, his nose clearly broken. The sight makes my stomach churn and my anger boil over.

The blades finally stop, and the words between Christian and my dad come into focus. I lean forward, trying to catch every word.

“You brought him,” Christian says, his voice smooth, like he’s congratulating Domenico on a job well done. “Just as I asked.”

Alexei, tied and bloodied as he is, manages a smirk. The cocky bastard. Even now, he’s unshaken.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Domenico says.

“Oh, I am,” Christian replies. “But there’s a wrinkle. My son has gone off the radar.”

My heart skips a beat. Omar’s gone? Alexei’s smirk widens, and it clicks—he had something to do with it.

Domenico crosses his arms. “I’ll find him,” he says. “And I’ll bring Stephania, as you requested. She’ll marry Omar, and our families will unite.”

Christian nods approvingly. “Good.”

Domenico gestures toward Alexei. “And him?”

Christian’s smile is cold, calculated. “Alexei and Isabella stay here. They’ll make fine hostages to keep the Ivanovs at bay—and to ensure your loyalty, Domenico.”

I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. Hostages?

“Wait,” Dad says. “You didn’t say anything about keeping my daughter as a hostage. You told me that if I brought you Alexei, I’d get her back.”

Christian shrugs. “Plans change. I’ve already got her. Why would I give her up?”

Dad’s eyes flash with fury. “Give her to me now, you prick!”

Without another word, Dad rushes toward Christian, but the guards are too fast, swarming him and dropping him to his knees with a punch to the gut.

Alexei hasn’t said a word, his expression locked in that unreadable calm.

My father’s phone buzzes, slicing through the heavy silence. But he’s still on his knees, his chest rising and falling.

“You going to answer that, Domenico?” Christian asks. “Could be important.”

Dad flashes him a hard look, then he answers, rising to his feet and stepping away slightly, but whatever he hears makes him go pale.

“What’s wrong?” Christian demands, his voice sharp.

My father hesitates, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. Then, finally, he mutters, “Stephania is missing.”

Christian’s face darkens, his cool demeanor cracking as he lets out a vicious curse.

“Missing?” he snaps, his eyes darting to Alexei. “What the hell does that mean?”

My father looks shaken, too rattled to answer. Christian, in contrast, is seething. His hand flies to his side, pulling out a pistol. He strides toward Alexei, his rage palpable.

“What did you do?” he barks, jamming the gun into Alexei’s chest.

Alexei doesn’t so much as flinch. His voice is low, steady, dangerous. “My plan is going perfectly.”

The words send Christian spiraling further into fury. His grip tightens on the gun. “You’ve got three seconds to start talking, Plushenko, or your plan won’t matter anymore.”

My heart slams against my ribs. Christian’s counting down, and Alexei—ice cold, unflinching Alexei—doesn’t say a damn word.

“Three.”

I clench the pistol in my trembling hand, desperately trying to figure out what to do.

“Two.”

The gun is cocked. My breath catches.

“One.”

“Stop!” I scream, stepping out from my hiding place. All eyes snap to me, shock flickering across their faces.

My father’s relief is immediate. “Isabella,” he breathes, taking a step toward me, but Christian holds up a hand to stop him.

“Well, well,” Christian says, lowering his gun slightly. “The clever little escape artist. Color me impressed.”

I hold my ground, glaring at him, my fingers curling into fists.

Christian’s smirk twists into something cruel. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since all this started. Maybe I should just end this game now. Kill you and that brat you’re carrying.”

He raises the gun and points it at me.