Page 3 of Forced Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #15)

“We are on our way to you,” I say into the phone pressed against my ear as I drive away from the Enzo estate.

Tatiana is still kicking and going wild in the back of the car. I can’t fucking believe how much fight that girl has in her. I did not expect her to be as feisty as that.

On the other side, the priest’s voice comes through, strained at the edges. “No, sorry—I had an emergency and I had to leave. We need to reschedule.”

“What? No. You can’t. I need this done tonight.

That was the deal,” I say, my stomach knotting tightly.

The marriage documents need to be signed tonight.

I need her tied to me immediately to stop anyone from being able to interfere.

Marriage, in the bratva world, is one of the strongest bonds two people can share.

If she’s not married to me tonight— right now —I can’t take her home to the mansion I’ve prepared. The risk would be too high.

“I’m really sorry, Andrei. It wasn’t in my control. We need to reschedule. I hope you’ll understand.”

I have no choice but to understand. He wouldn’t have done this unless it really was an emergency. I know him well enough.

“Call me as soon as you can,” I sigh.

“I will.”

I drop the phone into the center console of my car, and my fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

“Fuck,” I shout angrily.

In response, Tatiana kicks the seat again and shouts something, muffled against the duct tape I put over her mouth.

Maybe I should have used the chloroform. I didn’t because the thought of using it made me nauseous from memories of things I’ve done in the past, for Boris. Working for that family destroyed my karma in ways I don’t want to think about.

I also chose not to use it because I thought she would be scared and meek.

She’s fucking psycho, though. It’s like she wants to piss me off to the point I might punch her fucking lights out.

She’s lucky it’s me and not some savage asshole who’s kidnapped her.

Fine .

We can go to the cabin. At least it’s safe and quiet, and no one will find us. Tomorrow I can figure this all out.

The cabin is not as secure as the mansion, because I never had any intention of taking her there, but I’ll make do with what I’ve got.

It’s secluded, so she can make all the noise she wants, and no one will hear her.

For the entire duration of the drive to the cabin, she is kicking and fussing in the back of the car. I turn up the music loud to try and drown her out and focus on the road ahead.

By the time we reach the cabin, I’m hoping she’ll be completely depleted of energy. With the amount of effort she put into pointless shit back there in the car, it would be a fair assumption.

It’s cold again tonight when I park outside the place I called home for many months.

Climbing out, I muse over the tiny dress she’s wearing.

She was obviously getting ready to go out.

I guess I ruined those plans. Whoever she’s supposed to meet is going to be waiting for a while.

They might alert her brother, but there’s no way for him to know where to find her now.

The back door of the SUV opens, and as soon as it does, she rolls out onto the ground with a dull thud, then squirms like an idiot, trying to stand up even though her feet are tied together.

I sigh and scoop her up. She starts mumbling again, so I grip the edge of the tape over her mouth and rip it away in one quick tug.

“What the fuck?” she screams at me, then licks her lips and lifts her bound hands to press her fingers to her mouth. “That really fucking hurt.”

She grabs the blindfold and throws it aside, then sets her heated gaze on me. Her eyes are wild and bright. Bluer than I’ve ever seen before, even in the artificial light cast by the car.

“Who the hell are you?” she snaps.

“You don’t have to be scared, I have no intention of hurting you as long as you cooperate with me.”

“You already hurt me with that stupid duct tape trick you just pulled. And my ribs are bruised.” She shoots me an angry glare and I shake my head in disbelief. Who the hell does she think she is?

“Are you always this rude?” I ask. “When you should technically be begging for my mercy?”

“Hmph,” she huffs indignantly, then out of nowhere, she lets out an ear-piercing scream.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I snarl, lifting her up and throwing her over my shoulder again to carry her into the cabin.

There are only two bedrooms, so I take her to the smaller one, with a small window she couldn’t fit through if she tried.

There is nothing in here apart from the shelving unit bolted to the wall. This is the room I used for storage.

I drop her onto the floor. She’s still bound with her wrists and ankles wrapped in duct tape.

After a moment’s thought, I say, “I’ll get the camping mattress. It’s not the luxurious life you’re used to, but I think you can learn to be grateful that you’re getting anything at all,” I sigh.

“Hey, you can’t leave me in here—don’t you dare walk away. You can’t—"

I pull the door closed behind me and walk around to the shed at the back of the cabin to grab the mattress. It’s decent enough. She should be comfortable on it. Why the fuck would I care, anyway?

She isn’t getting tortured. She’s not being forced to sleep on a wooden floor. This is luxury, given the circumstances she finds herself in. I’ll even give that brat a blanket and a pillow.

Walking back into the cabin, I’m agitated. In the mansion, I’d already set up a decent room for her with security in place to make sure I didn’t have to worry about anything. In the cabin, I’m going to have to leave her tied up and—

She’s gone.

The fucking room is empty.

I’m standing in the doorway with my mouth hanging open in shock as I stare at the small, empty space.

There is nothing on the floor besides some ripped pieces of duct tape.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout.

I drop the mattress and turn to run after her, but I have no idea which way she went.

Cocking my head to the side, I listen, waiting, tense.

There .

In a flash, I bolt out of the cabin door and into the tree line. Her footsteps are loud against the damp earth and she squeals when she sees me running behind her.

Moving quickly, I catch up in a few strides and grab her around the waist as I pull her to a stop and press her body against mine.

Tatiana is fighting again, kicking and lashing out and screaming loudly.

“No one can hear you,” I say, breathless from the surprise bout of sprinting.

She starts punching her fists into my chest, and I chuckle.

Lifting her, I toss her over my shoulder again and carry her effortlessly back into the cabin. She weighs nothing, and her attempts to fight me are borderline amusing.

My hand wraps easily around her slender waist, but as she moves, trying to wiggle free, my hand slips down and brushes over her ass. It slips beneath the edge of her dress.

“Don’t you dare,” she screams.

“Stop moving,” I shout back, but I don’t take my hand away immediately. Her skin is soft and warm, and my mind is racing with inappropriate thoughts of what I would love to be doing to her. It would hardly be torture. I would make her lose her mind with pleasure.

With a jolt of shock, I pull my hand away from the inside of her thigh and shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? This girl is here for one reason—and only one reason.

Under no circumstances do I actually need to torture her. I just need her brother to think I’m torturing her. That’s it.

As I walk into the smaller room of the cabin, I kick the mattress across the floor, into the corner.

I don’t need to be distracted by her gorgeous figure or those luscious lips … or the way her back arches when she rolls over to glare at me after I’ve tossed her onto the mattress.

Tatiana shoots hellfire at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers.

“I’m just going to escape again,” she sasses.

“Mm. No. You’re not,” I smirk, squatting on my haunches next to her so that I can grab her wrist. She tries to tug them away from me, but I move fast, snapping a pair of handcuffs over her wrists, locking her to the shelving unit against the wall.

Immediately, she starts kicking the shelves, trying to get them loose from the wall. But they are bolted straight through. She isn’t going anywhere tonight.

“Sleep well, little bunny,” I chuckle, turning my back on her.

“What if I need to pee,” she squeals.

“You’ll have to ask nicely. Do you know how to do that?” My eyes trace over her body, the dress is like an oil slick over her curves, glistening with temptation.

“Fuck off,” she snaps.

“No problem.”

There is a bucket on the top of the shelf, so I reach for it and set it next to her bed. I also toss the blanket over her, a kindness I’m not sure she deserves at this point.

“Enjoy your stay in the luxury log cabin. Be sure to leave a good review in the morning,” I taunt her.

“My brother’s going to kill you,” she says darkly.

“I’m looking forward to him trying.”

“So, this is about my brother?” she whispers, her voice turning cold.

“What? You thought you were the special one? You’re just a means to an end, sweetheart,” I grin, then turn my back on her and walk out of the room, pulling the door closed because she is shouting again, swearing and cursing me and my entire family like a witch throwing spells around.

The cabin was not made with soundproofing in mind, and as I sink into the sofa near the empty fireplace, I wonder if I’m going to get any sleep tonight. If she doesn’t stop yelling, it will be impossible.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through it to check if the priest has messaged me to reschedule yet.

Dammit. The sooner I can get this wedding over with, the better. We can go to the mansion—it won’t be so cramped and claustrophobic. I really don’t want to stay in this cabin with this psycho little bunny.

Closing my eyes, I pretend I can’t hear her shouting or the constant thud, thud, thud as she kicks the wall with rhythmic monotony.

Somehow, I doze off, and when I wake up in the very early hours of the morning, the sky outside is only just beginning to show signs of a new day, and the entire cabin is quiet.

She’s asleep or exhausted. I close my eyes again.

But then the nagging reminder of how easily she got away last night creeps into my thoughts, and I can’t resist the urge to check on her, just to make sure she’s still there.

I walk as quietly as I can, avoiding the areas of the floor that creak. Her door lets out a little whine when I push it open. My heart stutters and I pause, holding my breath. It’s too early to deal with her shouting; if she is asleep, I want her to stay that way.

My eyes squint against the low light. She’s there, lying on her side, her face pressed into the pillow and her hair spilling like water around her.

Her dress has snuck up over her waist in the night, and I can see her gorgeous, dark, lace panties, barely covering anything at all.

My cock stirs as I watch her sleeping.

She looks peaceful and beautiful.

If she weren’t such a bitch she would be my type.

Not that I have time for relationships. Especially not now.

My entire focus is revenge, not this.

I huff and drag my eyes off her.

My stomach growls and I pull my mouth tight, wondering if there is anything worthwhile in the pantry cupboards.

Tinned food, no doubt.

That little bunny is going to throw an even bigger tantrum when she realizes that there might only be canned spaghetti for breakfast.

The thought makes me chuckle as I walk towards the kitchen.

There is definitely coffee. That much I know.

Black, dark and sweet.

For now, that’s all I need.

Hopefully, the priest will call me soon enough that I don’t have to worry about food here—we can get the marriage signed off and get to the mansion.