Page 8 of Pregnant Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #17)

Everything happened in slow motion with my heart beating loud in my ears.

I stepped out of Boris’s office and pulled the door shut behind me.

I wanted to throw up; I was so terrified.

If someone had caught me doing that, my uncle would’ve skinned me alive.

I have no doubt he’d torture me as harshly as he would his worst enemies.

The door clicked shut, and the only way to access it again was with my employee code, punched into the keypad to the left of the handle.

Without me, Arkady would have found it almost impossible to get into this room, unless he wanted to go in guns blazing, which would have defeated the entire point of planting a listening device.

My heart was racing as I stood for a moment trying to clear my head. This was just another way I’d betrayed people who trusted me. But honestly, it didn’t feel anywhere near as bad to betray my uncle as it did to betray Rose.

I let out a sharp breath and turned my back to the door. For me to be in this room is completely normal. I often worked on the files in here. People seeing me leave the room isn’t any cause for alarm or suspicion.

But still, I felt like I had a target on my back, a giant sign that said I’m up to no good.

I swallowed away my fear as best I could and smiled at the lady from accounting who walked past me. She’s very introverted, but always sweet to me.

She nodded a quiet greeting and moved on without conversation.

Get to the elevator. Get out of here. Move.

It’s easy to hide my overwhelming emotions from people who just smile and nod. If someone started a real conversation with me, though, that would have had me tripping over my own words. The guilt was painted all over me.

I hurried towards the big silver doors, punching the button to take me to the ground floor.

While I waited for the elevator to arrive, I realized it’s not only what I’d just done that was bothering me… it was also about being back in the office building.

I wished I were anywhere else. Being back there was horrible. It was making my skin crawl, and I felt claustrophobic again. The same feeling I had when I ran out of here early the other day—it felt like forever ago.

I remembered exactly why I wanted to run away. I hated this place.

The elevator doors slid open, and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but instead, my mouth dropped open in horror.

Before Uncle Boris looked up at me, I quickly plastered a smile on my face.

“Tania, I thought you were on vacation,” Uncle Boris said as he stepped out of the elevator, eyeing me up and down, his gaze was full of questions.

“Hi, Uncle Boris.” My voice wavered slightly, but I quickly corrected it. I had to sound normal—whatever that is.

Tell him. Tell him you’ve been kidnapped.

No.

Arkady will hurt your family.

Uncle Boris is stronger. He’ll keep them safe.

The words were on the tip of my tongue. I need help. I’ve been taken. But I couldn’t get them to spill from my lips.

Uncle Boris was still staring at me, his eyes narrowed. I should say something else. It’s weird that I’m here. It’s weird that I’m speechless.

Everything was wrong.

It’s not worth the risk, Tania. Think about your family. The people you love whom Arkady has threatened.

The moment of indecisive hesitation got pushed aside in my mind, and I had to think quickly to explain my presence there.

“I just wanted to finish up a few things before I left. There was some paperwork that would have bothered me if I didn’t complete it.”

“Is that so? And when are you leaving?” His questions sounded like an interrogation rather than simple curiosity. My heart was beating a million miles an hour. I hoped he couldn’t hear it. In my head, it sounded like a thundering drumbeat. My hands were clammy with sweat.

“In the next few days.” I could just write a note. I could let him know who’s got me. Arkady wouldn’t even know I was doing it. Uncle Boris could let me leave and then deal with the issue after I’m gone. That way, Arkady wouldn’t know.

“Where to?” Uncle Boris snapped.

“Oh, um, I’m still deciding between three places. But I’ll book the tickets and the hotel tonight.”

My uncle wouldn’t let me leave, though. Even if I wrote a note that clearly said he needed to, for the sake of the people I’m trying to protect.

I hope my cheeks aren’t glowing as red as they feel. My skin is hot. It’s way too hot in this building.

Why is Uncle Boris looking at me like that?

He glares at me for a long time, and I stand frozen, unsure what to do. Can he read my thoughts? Does he know what I did? Does he know I planted the bug?

“Sir, your guests have arrived. I’ve put them in the boardroom,” a young man leans close to my uncle and whispers to him.

I smile tightly.

Uncle Boris throws me one last look. “I expect you to inform me once you’ve decided where you’re going.

I want to be kept up to date on your whereabouts at all times, Tania.

If you don’t obey, then I’ll have you dragged away from whatever vacation you’re on and brought right back here. Do I make myself clear?”

I nod, and my smile grows wider in an attempt to seem happy. My hands are locked behind my back to hide how badly they’re shaking.

“Of course, yes. I’ll let you know. Thanks, Uncle Boris,” I grin, pressing the elevator button again as he turns away from me. I’m desperate to leave.

As soon as he’s far enough away, I let out a heavy breath, not realizing I’d been holding it this entire time.

The elevator opens and I spill into it, wanting nothing more than to be far, far away from here. It’s not just my hands shaking now; my entire body is shaking.

Tears are stinging my eyes, and my breathing is erratic.

Seeing Uncle Boris has brought back every knot of tension that was in my body. It reminded me of just how badly I wanted to escape him.

I’m overwhelmed and confused. I thought I was upset over the bug and the kidnapping, but right now I’m not—I’m upset that I had to see my uncle.

I could probably have found a way to warn him, but maybe I didn’t want to. Does that make me a terrible person?

What is going on with me?

I wish I had decided to go on vacation a day earlier. Maybe I could have escaped Uncle Boris and this Arkady asshole.

My head is spinning wildly when the elevator opens on the ground floor. I hurry out of it, into the foyer, pushing past people and rushing towards the fresh air outside.

But even once I’m on the street outside the building, I can’t stop. My feet keep moving quickly. I go from walking to running—I have to get away. The tears are streaming down my cheeks now, and I have no idea where I’m going; I just know I need to get away.

I bump into people, blindly moving, pushing forward. I dart down a side street, into a quiet alleyway. I can barely breathe. My thoughts are racing, fear is pulsing through me, and I’m shaking worse than before.

When I try to take a breath in, it feels as though my lungs are too tight.

With my back leaning against the brick wall, I let out a soft whimper and sink to my haunches; resting my face against my knees, I cry without holding back.

Seeing my uncle again hurt me more than I was prepared for. The fear I felt being next to him, understanding that I don’t want to be around him—it’s so much to accept. He is my family, and yet, I hate him.

I’m a terrible person for hating the man who took me in when I had nowhere else to go. I should be grateful, not bitter and resentful. I should be thanking him, but no part of me wants to do that.

Ever since everything happened with Rose, my entire world and the way I view my life have shifted. It’s changed completely.

What I thought was okay is now alarmingly unacceptable.

My throat is closing around my tears as loud sobs shake from my body. I feel hopeless and scared, and like there is no way for me to escape what I’ve become.

I wrap my arms tighter around my knees and rock back and forth, trying to soothe myself. Calm down, Tania. Breathe. You’re ok. You’ll figure something out.

It’s not working, though. The panic is too intense.

I don’t hear him approaching.

“Darling.” Arkady’s voice drips over me like a warm blanket. I don’t look up at him; I’m too embarrassed. I’m too full of hate and hurt and rage. I’m too broken.

I feel his arms slip around my body. My first instinct is to lash out—and I do. I push him, clawing at him, shouting for him to leave me alone.

He doesn’t react to my resistance.

I expected him to slap me or grab me roughly, but he doesn’t.

He pauses, then slips his arm around me again. His gentle insistence is unexpected, and I’m stunned for a moment.

I let him lift me, and he does so with ease, cradling me against his chest.

Get away. Run, escape while you can, the voice in my head screams, but instead of listening, I press my face against his shirt. I long for any sense of safety, and right now his body, his strength, his embrace—it’s exactly what I need. I need to be held. I need comfort.

He smells so good.

“You’re okay, darling, I’ve got you.” His soft, soothing tone vibrates against my body. Arkady holds me closer, his arms tightening, his fingers brushing over my side.

“You’re okay, I’m going to get you home,” he says gently.

And to my surprise, my heart begins to beat more slowly. The tears stop spilling, and the panic pulsing through me slowly begins to ease away.

I nuzzle closer to him, trying to even my breathing, focusing on how his words brush over me.

Protective.

I never expected Arkady to be protective of me.

My fingers knot in his shirt as I hide my face against him. He talks softly while I cling to him, wrapped in the reassurance he is offering as he carries me towards the car.

He parked it closer.

I guess he saw me running and took off after me.

I don’t know what I was thinking, other than wanting to get as far away from my uncle as possible. There wasn’t anywhere I could go. Especially not in these heels.

Even with my face hidden, I can feel my cheeks flush pink with embarrassment.

I wish I didn’t look so weak and pathetic in front of Arkady.

I don’t want to need him in this moment. He kidnapped me. He’s the bad guy. Yet, I’m finding every bit of comfort in his arms that I so desperately need.

Arkady opens the passenger door and gently puts me in the seat. He leans over me, reaching for the safety belt, clipping it in. His face is close to mine.

I close my eyes and savor the scent of him, the masculine warmth, the sense of safety.

His fingers brush over my cheek, carefully tucking a stray curl behind my ear. His thumb wipes a tear away. “You’re okay,” he whispers, a concerned smile on his face. His eyes are brighter blue than I remember.

He closes the door and climbs in on the driver’s side.

All the way home, he keeps his hand on my thigh, a reassuring touch that I need.