Page 49 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva

Sell me? I freeze. Kaz does too—but only for a breath. Then something inside him breaks. The man barely gets out another word before Kaz lunges.

He doesn’t need a weapon. His fists are the weapon. One hand wraps around the man’s throat, pinning him again to the floor, the other hammering down. Again. Again. Flesh slapping flesh. Bone cracking.

It’s brutal. Maxim, Milo, and Arina stand in the background. Still. Silent. They don’t interfere. They’ve seen this before.

But I haven’t. And yet—I can’t look away.

Kaz isn’t just angry. He’s unhinged. Possessed.

All because someone wanted to sell me. Like I was property. Like I was a thing.

When the man finally stops moving, Kaz stays there a second longer, chest heaving, blood on his knuckles, his breathing ragged.

And I know. He killed him. For me. Because someone dared to speak of selling me, of taking me away from him.

Suddenly, Kaz disappears on screen. For a second, I stay, watching as Arina and Milo drag the body away, wondering where he went. Until I hear the sound of his boots pounding up the stairs. He’s coming. Fast.

I rush to the door, my hands trembling as I unlock it. The moment it swings open, I gasp.

He’s there. His shirt is blood-soaked and torn across the chest, clinging to his skin, and he’s shaking—rage still pulsing off him like heat from a wildfire. His eyes are unfocused, wild, and he smells of sweat, smoke, and the sharp, coppery tang of blood. Not his.

“Kaz,” I whisper, stepping toward him.

He’s breathing like he ran a marathon, his fists still clenched at his sides, knuckles raw and split open. His jaw is tight, and for a moment I think he won’t speak. But then I do what I’ve never done before—not with him.

I reach up and hold his face in my hands.

His skin is hot under my palms. His lashes flutter like he’s startled by the touch. The fierce, ruthless man who just killed someone with his bare hands stands completely still under my fingers.

“What happened?” I ask, barely getting the words out through the knot in my throat. “Kaz, what’s wrong?”

His throat bobs. He looks at me. Really looks. And something in him gives.

“They were here,” he says, voice raw. “For you.”

My blood runs cold.

“Why?” I ask, stepping closer. “Why me? Why are people trying to take me?”

Kaz’s jaw tightens again. He hesitates for a second too long.

And then he says it.

“Because someone out there knows what you mean to me.”

The air between us shifts. My breath catches.

I don’t know what stuns me more—that someone wants me as leverage…or that Kaz just admitted that I mean something to him.

More than something. Enough to make men bleed.

Enough to make him kill.

“Kaz…” I whisper.

But he doesn’t let me speak. Not yet. His voice is still thunder in his chest when he says:

“They weren’t after you for ransom. They were going to sell you. Like property. Like you’re nothing.” He pauses, barely able to keep still. “And I won’t let that happen. I’ll burn this entire city before I let them touch a hair on your head.”