Page 96 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva

I walk to the closet on the other end of the room and start to arm myself. I clench my jaw as I strap the second holster across my chest. My hands are steady, but inside, I am fire. Rage is crawling just beneath my skin, hungry and alive.

“I’m going to skin him alive,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. “For what he did to her. For every bruise. Every scratch. Every second she’s been afraid.”

Kaz leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Then let me come with you. Back you up.”

I look up. “No.”

He pushes off the wall, frustrated. “Adrian—”

“This is my fight.” My voice is cold, hard. “He took my wife. Hurt my woman. This isn’t a Bratva mission. This is personal.”

Kaz stares at me, unreadable. “You go in alone, and there’s a good chance you don’t come back.”

I shove an extra clip into my coat pocket. “Then you better make sure Jennie doesn’t bury me empty-handed.”

Zalar watches quietly from the corner, not daring to interrupt. He knows me too well.

I pick up the knife and slip it into my boot, then one more pistol at my back. Loaded. Primed. Ready for war.

Kaz sighs, almost a growl. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m thinking perfectly,” I snap. “He thinks he can touch what’s mine and live. He thinks I’ll play by his rules. I’ll burn that fucking yard to the ground before I let her suffer one more minute.”

I head for the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at Kaz.

“If I’m not back in two hours,” I say, voice quiet but sharp, “find me. And when you do, bring hell.”

Then I walk out—furious, focused, and ready to kill.

I slide into the driver’s seat, slam the door shut, and punch in the address Yegor sent into the GPS. The engine growls to life, and I peel out of the compound with the tires screeching on pavement. My blood’s boiling, my thoughts sharp and lethal. There’s no fear. Only calculation.

Halfway down the expressway, my phone rings.

Lukin.

Of course. Kaz, that snitching bastard. I should’ve known he wouldn’t let this go without backup. I stab the answer button on the steering wheel, but I don’t say anything.

“Adrian,” Lukin says, voice tight. “You going alone to face that rat fuck is suicide. Turn around. We can hit them hard. Planned. Controlled. Not this madness.”

I clench my jaw. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel until the leather creaks.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Lukin,” I growl. “I’m not turning back.”

There’s a pause. “You don’t even know what you’re walking into.”

“I know exactly what I’m walking into,” I snap. “And I’m walking out with Jennie.”

He curses under his breath. “At least take Kaz—”

I hang up.

Fuck that. I need my head clear, and his voice is just static right now. I toss the phone onto the passenger seat, but after a beat, I pick it up again. I can’t turn it off completely. If Yegor messages again, I have to see it instantly. So I leave it on silent and shove the phone face-down, eyes locked on the road.

This is between me and Yegor now.

I press the pedal harder. The city lights blur past me, but I’m already somewhere else—in that warehouse, in the dark, with my gun to his head.

He thinks he’s the predator. That’s fine.