Page 21 of Forced Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #15)

My legs stretch out beneath the blankets as I stretch lazily across the bed. I haven’t slept that well in years. Talking to Nico, and afterwards talking to Tia—I came to realize so many things yesterday, and my heart feels lighter than it has in far too long.

Sleepily, I reach across to pull Tia closer to me, but she isn’t there.

I groan in disappointment to find she’s already up. But the smile on my face still stretches wide.

I really like that girl.

What a crazy situation this turned out to be.

Last night, on the sofa, I thought about telling her how much she means to me, but I’d rather wait until I have Boris under control.

When everything is safe, then I’ll share my heart with her.

I want to ask her to move in with me—officially.

I want to find out where our relationship will lead us. I’ve never met anyone like her before.

With a loud groan, I climb out of bed and stretch again to force my muscles to wake up.

“Tia?” I call into the villa, but she doesn’t reply.

Peeking into the bathroom, I don’t find her there or in the kitchen.

I tug the fridge open to get milk out for a cup of coffee, yawning lazily, and enjoy the slow mornings here in the Bahamas.

We were up late last night. I wonder if Tia got enough sleep.

Her not being here isn’t bothering me in the least.

I have no intention of keeping her a prisoner anymore, and after everything that’s happened, I’m comfortable with the idea that she’s gone for a swim or a walk on the beach or maybe to get us some of those amazing breakfast bagels from the cafe nearby.

We’re far from home and the dangers of her family, so I know wherever she is, she’s safe for now.

We’ve grown so close, I’ve never felt this way about someone before. She’s so freaking special to me. And I think she feels the same way about me. You can’t fake that kind of connection.

I scoop some sugar into my coffee and pick up the cup, roaming out onto the balcony to look at the water, half expecting to find her swimming, naked, laughing in the cool water.

But she’s not there, and she’s not up either stretch of beach, to the left or right of the villa. I guess that means we’re getting bagels for breakfast. My stomach growls excitedly. That bacon avocado bagel is incredible.

After my coffee, I have a cold shower and get dressed.

Tia is still not back when I come downstairs again.

My stomach tightens; despite my mind telling me she wouldn’t run, it’s been over an hour, and she’s not here. Something else might have happened. She might need me.

I decide to take a stroll to the café—I’ll probably find her along the way.

She’s not there. The cafe is busy with customers, but there’s no sign of her.

She’s not at the bookshop; she kept telling me she wants to explore. I planned to take her there today.

She’s not at the antique shop on the main street either, or the weird artsy shop filled with oddities.

I walk through the small town, and a heavy weight settles onto my shoulders.

She’s not anywhere.

This isn’t possible. I’ve been looking for hours, and she’s just gone.

With reluctance, I start to accept the only possible answer.

She left.

She took her chance the moment I let my guard down.

She ran.

Still refusing to believe it, I make my way to the resort security office. There is a camera right outside our villa, pointing towards the car parking area. I need to see it.

It might give me a clue about what’s going on.

At first, the guard is reluctant. He tells me he might lose his job if he shows me.

“Sir, that footage is for resort use only; we aren’t allowed to show it to outsiders.”

“Look, man, I think my girl is in trouble, and that footage is the only way for me to confirm it. I think someone took her by force. By the time I get the cops here and they bring a warrant, it might be too late.”

He shakes his head. I narrow my eyes, pleading with him to understand.

The guard sighs loudly and turns his chair towards the screens.

“You can’t let anyone know I showed you this.”

“I won’t,” I mutter with relief.

We speed watch through the footage from around three in the morning, the time I fell asleep. On the screen, a dark SUV parks next to my car and Van climbs out of it. His bulky form is unmistakable even in the grainy night vision.

I tense, instantly realizing that she was taken . The guard plays in double speed again until there is movement. I want to tear that asshole apart for laying his hands on her.

But in the next scene, she is calmly walking ahead of Van. She is acting of her own free will, and when she gets to the SUV, she pulls the door open and climbs into the back seat, looking comfortable and unbothered. She’s not fighting or arguing or even making the slightest attempt to escape him.

She went by choice.

“Is that your girl?” he asks, his eyes filled with pity for me.

“That’s her. Thanks for letting me see it.”

“Sorry, man, I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to see.”

I shrug. “It is what it is,” I say, leaving the office.

It is what it is.

And all along, she made me believe it was something else.

She is as good at manipulation as her brother is. It’s the Enzo blood. Tainted with cruelty and lies. That whole family is twisted. I can’t believe I trusted one of them. Why? Why would I do that to myself?

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, angry with myself for my own stupidity.

I head back to the villa with my heart sinking lower and lower. I may as well pack up and go home. There is no point in staying. I don’t know what my next move is regarding Boris, but I can decide on the flight.

Passing the Mustang in the parking lot, I sneer at it, remembering the excitement I felt during the street race, and the thrill of taking her in the front seat afterwards. It was wild, spontaneous and beautiful.

Every moment with her has been an adventure. She changed my life. I have been obsessed and smothered by guilt for over a year, and then she showed up and I forgot to hate myself.

I forgot to be lost in grief. It was no longer swallowing me up.

All of a sudden, I was enjoying my life. Enjoying the little things that I hadn’t noticed in so long. The sun, the ocean, her smile—

I tear my eyes off the car.

Suddenly, I hate Mustangs. I’ll never drive one again.

Rage shoots through me like a drug.

I don’t want anything to do with anything that reminds me of her.

Upstairs in the villa, I call my pilot and tell him to get the plane ready for a flight home.

Pulling the suitcase out of the bedroom closet, I set it on the bed and start tossing clothes into it, not bothering to fold them or pay attention to neatness. I just want to get out of here. The sight of Tia’s bag makes me angry.

She played me.

Fuck. She was so good at it.

My mind is replaying all the moments I shared with her. I’m trying really hard to figure out how I missed it. How I was so easily deceived. But even now, thinking about it, it feels real.

My phone rings on the bedside table and I turn it over to see who’s calling, thinking it must be the pilot confirming that everything is in order and I’m set to go.

But it’s not.

It’s a video call from Boris .

Every muscle in my body tenses.

My teeth grind and my jaw clenches.

Sliding the green button across the screen, I answer and the image that fills my phone also fills my heart with anger and pain.

Boris is grinning into the camera, seated in a high-backed chair that replicates a throne; his ego has no limits. Standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder, her face blank, is Tia.

My heart somersaults.

She’s staring at me with an emptiness in her eyes that churns my stomach.

It was all fake.

She’s taunting me now, standing alongside her brother with her hand reaching out to him. She’s sending a clear message regarding whose side she’s on. She’s silently telling me where her alliance lies.

The pain that stabs into me is too much to bear. And it confirms what I suspected. I fell in love with her. Love is the only thing that can hurt like this. Love is the only thing that can rip into my chest with claws that sharp.

“How are you doing on this beautiful morning, Andrei?” Boris laughs coldly.

I say nothing, because there is nothing to say to him.

If I could, I would speak to Tia. I want to ask her why she did it.

I want to beg her to tell me it was all real.

She’s acting so calm and cool, brushing her hair away from her shoulder, tilting her head to the side.

There is nothing in her movements or her eyes to hint that she cares in any way.

“Cat got your tongue?” Boris muses.

“I have nothing to say to you, Boris Enzo,” I snarl. The only reason I haven’t hung up already is because I’m watching her, stupidly hopeful that she’ll give me some kind of hint that she’s trapped.

He smirks, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. I want to punch that smug expression off his face. He doesn’t deserve to be smiling. He deserves the same kind of pain he inflicts on everyone else.

He sighs dramatically. “Listen, man, I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you hoped.

It took you what, a year? To plan this revenge, and it all backfired so quickly.

You must be pretty annoyed about that, but don’t worry.

The game doesn’t end here. We can keep playing.

In fact, I’ve already set up a rather explosive surprise for you in celebration of my sister coming home to me. I’m sure you’re going to enjoy it.”

My mind spins. His words are far too specific.

Boris is known for planting bombs beneath the cars of his enemies—if he’s mentioning explosives now, there is a reason for it.

Realization strikes hard as I turn to run from the bedroom. The phone drops from my hand. I run for the door and skid out onto the balcony, and all I hear is Boris’s laughter before the bomb goes off.

A deafening explosion erupts around me, and heat slams into me with force that throws me over the balcony.

The air is punched from my lungs as I fly through the air, certain I am about to die, but somehow I land on forgiving white sand.

My body rolls over it. It spits up into my eyes and mouth and I’m choking on smoke and sand and wondering how I’m still alive.

Rolling onto my back, I gasp for air and stare up at the remains of what was once a bedroom. Flames are licking from the open doorway, blown wider by the blast, and the glass doors are shattered off their hinges.

I groan loudly and reach up to press my hand over my heart.

Tia stood there, knowing about the bomb, knowing her brother’s plan to detonate it—and she didn’t say a fucking word.

Ice creeps into my chest, cold and deadly.

I will tear that family apart.

But first, I want to look into her eyes and hear the words from her own mouth. I want her to admit she is as cold and evil as her brother is.

The two of them deserve each other.