Page 22 of Forced Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #15)

My entire body is stiff as I stand next to Boris, my hand resting obediently on his shoulder just as he instructed me to do.

Off screen, out of sight of the video call, Van is holding Olivia at gunpoint. They made the threat as clear as day, spelling it out to me so that there was no room for misunderstanding.

If I say or do anything during the video call that is not exactly as they instructed, they will shoot her in the head.

I glance at her, quickly, and instantly regret it. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. She’s terrified.

My heart breaks for her.

At least now I understand why they dragged her to the Bahamas with them. That poor girl doesn’t deserve this. She looks petrified, frozen in fear, waiting for something to go wrong and her life to end.

Boris wanted to taunt Andrei by showing off that he has me back. That’s the entire reason for this call. Nothing more than a nasty jab at the man who has my heart.

I’m staring at the camera, trying desperately not to raise my eyebrows of narrow my eyes, repeating over and over again that if I do the slightest thing wrong, Olivia might die because of it.

Boris continues to mock Andrei, and my heart aches when I see his expression in the video. He’s not even looking at Boris, not that my half-brother has noticed. He’s so busy gloating that he can’t tell that Andrei is looking directly at me. His eyes are like daggers in my heart.

His eyes are begging me to tell him what he’s seeing isn’t real. He’s desperate to believe I didn’t leave by choice.

But I did. The choice was to lose him forever or go willingly. I wish I could tell him. I wish I could make him understand.

When Boris starts talking about the surprise he left for Andrei, my heart stops beating and turns cold. Surely he wouldn’t. It’s just a threat. More games. But Van laughs, and I turn my head towards him just as he pushes the detonator.

I scream, but it’s too late. There is a deep sound that causes my ears to pop, and then the video cuts off.

No .

No, this isn’t happening.

Van lets Olivia go, and she drops to the floor in fright.

He walks slowly to the high balcony and stares out of it, towards the beach, and I realize he can see the villa from here.

“And?” Boris asks, not getting up from his throne.

“It’s burning,” Van laughs.

I run to the balcony and stare in disbelief at the villa in the distance, smoke pouring from the side of it. They really did it.

They set off the bomb. The explosion killed Andrei. There is no way he could have survived that. Half of the villa is blazing angrily, and smoke is turning the sky dark above it.

I can’t breathe.

My body starts shaking uncontrollably, and intense shock shoots through me.

I collapse to the floor, and leaning to the side, I throw up.

There’s nothing in my stomach, so nothing comes out, but my body doesn’t stop trying.

Painful, heaving spasm crash through me, and I’m sobbing, fighting for air, fighting for sanity as the painful truth of losing Andrei sinks deeper and deeper into my heart.

Van grabs a handful of my hair and uses it to pull me to my feet.

“Stop that. It’s fucking disgusting. Stop crying. Stop whimpering. Get the fuck over it. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

“You killed him,” I scream, lashing out at Van. He dodges my hand and laughs.

Boris huffs in annoyance.

“Stop being a little bitch, Tatiana. It’s your fault he’s dead. You didn’t even try and warn him.” He laughs.

I choke on the pain of his words.

It is my fault. All I had to do with cry out. One word. Anything. If I had opened my fucking mouth, he’d still be alive.

I glare at my half-brother, seeing him in an entirely new way. It’s as though someone has lifted the rose-tinted glasses off my face and I’m able to see his rotting soul, clear as day. His heartless, cruel, true self.

“Are we done here?” Van asks, speaking to Boris.

“Yes, get them both in the car. Tell the pilot we’re ready to leave. I want to be far away from the hotel by the time the firetrucks show up at the beachfront.”

They carry on talking, but everything sounds like I’m trapped underwater. Sounds are echoing at me from a distance. Muffled and distorted. The world is moving in slow motion.

Van drags me from the room. Shouting something at me. But I’m numb. I’m dead inside. I can’t feel anything or see anything.

I can’t believe that any of this is real. I refuse to accept it, yet I saw it with my own eyes.

I’m the reason that Andrei is dead, and I can never change that.

I’ll never see him again.

I can barely remember the plane ride home. It’s as though everything that happened after the explosion just isn’t real.

Days go by, one by one, and all I can think about is Andrei.

Each time I picture his face, I want to sink into the black hole where my heart used by and let the pain of losing him swallow me up.

I hate myself.

I hate my half-brother.

I don’t know how to get through this.

***

Back home, things have changed.

It’s been two weeks since we left the Bahamas. Two weeks since Andrei died, and my heart only gets more lost with each passing day.

I love him.

And I am the reason he died.

I am a prisoner in my own home again, but this time it’s worse.

Boris is making it clear that I am not welcome here unless I make sacrifices for the family.

He expects me to earn my place here and to earn his trust back.

There is no world in which I want to earn his trust. I wish he would die, and I’d never have to look at his face again.

He’s told me over and over again that the only reason he wanted to get me back, to rescue me from Andrei, was to use me against him. It wasn’t because he cared—according to him, he had never cared about me.

“Do you know what our father did?” Boris muses as he paces up and down in my bedroom, ranting again.

I sit quietly on the edge of my bed, enduring his long, tedious lecture.

It didn’t take me long to learn that if I didn’t at least pretend to listen to him, he doesn’t hesitate to deliver a sharp slap across my face.

And I’m certain it would quickly get worse than that if he sensed defiance in me.

I’m numb and heartbroken, but I’m still afraid of the pain he might inflict on me.

“No,” I mutter. “I don’t know what our father did.”

“Our father made a clause in his will—a clause that forced me to take care of you. The family trust is withholding millions of dollars from me. It only gets released year by year, as long as I take care of you. Can you fucking believe it? I would have gotten rid of you the moment the old man died if it wasn’t for that. ” He pulls his mouth tight.

A single tear spills down my cheek.

What I overheard all those years ago plays back in my mind.

You’ll get nothing from me—

It was my father, knowing how cruel his son is, trying to keep me safe in the only way he knew how.

I lift my eyes to Boris, and he stares at me with calculated cruelty.

“ I’ve figured out a way for you to have some kind of value to me,” he grins.

“How?” I ask, shifting on the bed, knowing that I don’t want to hear the answer.

“If you’d just behaved in the first place, none of this would’ve happened, Tatiana. It’s your fault you aren’t living a luxurious life anymore.” His cold eyes stare down at me with satisfaction, noting my worry.

“My life was never luxurious. I was nothing more than your prisoner. I didn’t have any freedom or any joy. Just because I had nice clothes doesn’t mean I was ever happy here,” I snap in anger.

The slap is sharp, and it stings across my cheek. Heat builds in the shape of a handprint on my skin.

I glare at him, refusing to show how much it hurts.

“You selfish bitch. You have no idea how good you had it before you betrayed me. But things are changing, and this time you’re going to earn your place in this family. I don’t have to hurt you to get worth out of you.”

He brushes his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my head upward to look at him. His touch disgusts me, and I want to push his hand away, but I don’t.

“I’m going to introduce you to my business associates. One of them will want you. I’ll make a deal worth millions and sell you off to be a good little wife and create a new alliance for myself. That way, you’ll be out of my sight, but still a benefit to me.”

“I’m already married,” I squeal in horror.

His business associates are not the type of men who would treat me with care. I don’t know what kind of future that would be. Maybe death would be better.

He snorts.

“He’s dead, Tatiana. The marriage ended when his life ended. You’re single again, and I’m going to make the most of it.”

“I won’t do it, Boris. I’d rather die,” I snap.

“It’s not you who will bear the consequences of denying me.

It’s Olivia, her sister, and her mother, and the other housekeepers who work here, slaving over you, cooking your food and making your bed.

I will kill them one by one, and it will be your fault, little sister.

Do as you’re told, or they will suffer,” he says clearly, emphasizing the warning.

I grit my teeth together, hating that he is cruel enough to carry out his threat.

I am already responsible for Andrei’s death, and I have no idea how I’m going to be able to carry that burden with me my entire life—I can’t be responsible for their lives ending, too.

At this point, my life doesn’t matter. I am a pawn.

I am nothing but a tool in someone else's game.

“I’ll do it,” I mutter, misery swallowing me up as I accept my fate.

“Good. Van is going to take you shopping for a new dress. There is a party tonight, and I need you to look better than you’ve ever looked before.

Make sure it’s revealing, but I don’t want you looking like a slut.

And do something with your fucking hair.

It looks like you haven’t brushed it all week. ”

I nod, self-consciously dragging my fingers through my hair.

I haven’t been able to look at my own reflection for weeks.

I can’t look into the eyes of the person responsible for Andrei’s death.

I blame myself. I don’t deserve to feel pretty or to wear nice things. I deserve to be in the pain I’m in.

“Get out of my sight,” he snaps.

I stand up and walk out of my bedroom to find Van. I may as well get this over with.

***

I’m feeling suffocated.

He is hardly giving me space to breathe, never mind space to shop for a stupid dress. Van is a shadow, glued to my side, moving when I do—he doesn’t let me out of his sight as I walk around the mall, trying to find a dress my half-brother will approve of.

“You don’t have to stand so close,” I complain, trying to step away from him. I hate him. I hate being near him. He pushed that button. He planted the bomb.

“Shut up, bitch. Find a dress so we can get out of here.”

Letting out a slow breath, I try to control my frustration.

There is a glittery purple dress draped over my arm. I chose another one, a black velvet dress, and a third one, long flowing creamy white silk with a low-cut back.

“I’m going to try these on,” I say, turning away from Van.

He moves to follow me, and I spin to glare at him.

“You can’t come into the changing rooms,” I say in desperation.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, girl.”

“Van, there is nowhere for me to go,” I argue.

“It’s not worth the risk. The boss made it clear that I shouldn’t trust you.”

“What risk is there to you—it’s not your life, my brother will take if I disobey him.

It’s not even my life, it’s Olivia’s. I already know the rules, okay.

I’m not going to do anything to put her or anyone else in danger.

So please, give me a moment alone to try on these stupid dresses so we can go home.

I’m tired of this place.” My voice is shaking, but I’m trying so hard to stay calm.

I’m desperate for a moment alone. My head is drowning, and I haven’t had a chance to just sit and take a breath.

Van shoves me up against the wall outside the dressing rooms.

“One wrong move and I’ll rip you apart,” he warns me.

I nod tightly.

“I’ll be right outside, Tatiana. If you try anything, I’ll know,” he snarls.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say again, forcing my shoulders to relax despite the tension inside me.

I step into the large room, elegant and pristine, with separate cubicles for people to use to try on clothes.

Sighing, I hang the dresses up on a rail nearby, and I’m about to sit down on the wide sofa and take a second when out of nowhere, someone grabs me from behind, locking their hand over my mouth. I scream, the sound muffled and pointless against the hand.

I kick and fight, trying to bite the hand, but he’s too strong.

Dragging me backwards into one of the cubicles, the assailant shoves me against a wall, and my entire body freezes in shock.

He drops his hand away from my mouth, his eyes filled with anger and hate as he glares daggers at me. There is so much hurt in his expression as he stares down at me.

“Andrei.” His name falls from my lips, barely a whisper, as I stare back at him in disbelief. “You’re—you’re alive?” I choke. “You’re really here?” Reaching up, I touch his cheek, my heart beating a million miles an hour.

As soon as my fingers trace over his skin, I know it’s real.

It’s really him.

My heart breaks apart with relief.

Tears stream from my eyes, and I throw myself into him, wrapping my arms tightly around him as I sob against his chest.

“You’re alive.” I can’t stop saying it. “You’re alive.”

I’ve never been happier or more relieved to see someone in my entire life.

Andrei is stiff against me. He isn’t moving and he isn’t speaking.

I lean back to look at him, hurriedly wiping my tears away with the back of my hand so that I can see him clearly.

His face, moments ago filled with anger, is now knitted with confusion.

“Andrei?” I say his name, touching his lips, waiting for him to speak.

“Why are you acting like this?” he asks coldly. “Why aren’t you scared of what I’ll do to you in revenge?”

“I thought you were dead. I thought they killed you, and it was my fault. Why would I be scared? You’re alive, Andrei . It’s incredible. I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now. I thought I lost you forever.” I’m blubbering through my tears, smiling and giddy with relief.

“What are you talking about? I saw you on the video call with your brother, standing at his side. I saw you on the security footage as well. You left with Van. He didn’t force you to go with him—"

“You don’t understand,” I sigh, reaching up to touch him.