Page 32 of Sexting the Bratva Boss (Text to Touch)

Ruslan

The Turkish arms dealer was still haggling over a few percentage points. Normally, I might have had patience for negotiation tactics to get him where I wanted. But now, I was done listening.

Ever since that car had followed us to set, an uneasy feeling had been gnawing at me.

"That's it. Dimitri will handle the details with you," I said, standing to end the negotiation.

I strode quickly to the parking garage where my black Bentley waited.

Getting behind the wheel, I started the engine and headed toward the film set.

I'd been watching her constantly lately—every time I thought about that tracking car and the potential danger lurking in shadows, I couldn't convince myself to relax my guard.

The car slowed as I approached the set area.

The crew was filming classified scenes, so the area around the set had been cleared. The view was good—I could see the main gate clearly .

That's when a scene that made my blood freeze appeared before my eyes.

Two men in black masks were at the set entrance, each holding one arm of a violently struggling woman, trying to drag her toward a van.

It was Eva.

Even from this distance, I recognized that honey-colored hair catching the sunlight. She was using every ounce of strength to kick and fight her captors, but a woman's strength was no match for two grown men.

Rage instantly flooded my brain.

My hand instinctively reached under the seat where I kept a loaded Glock 19. Old habits—I always kept weapons in my car. I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm. There were two of them, and I didn't know if they were armed.

Eva was in their hands. I couldn't afford any mistakes.

I silently pushed open the car door and slid out like a hunting cat, using the heavy vehicle as cover to assess the situation.

They'd reached the van. One kidnapper was trying to stuff Eva into the back while the other stood watch, scanning the area. His hand was in his jacket pocket, the unnatural bulge telling me he was armed.

No time to wait for a better moment—once Eva was in the vehicle, they'd drive off. I used the split second when the lookout's attention turned away to emerge from behind the car, arm steady as stone, aiming at the back of his head.

I needed to eliminate one of them first.

Bang!

The lookout didn't even have time to scream before his body crumpled to the ground.

The sudden gunshot shocked the other kidnapper. He viciously yanked Eva in front of him as a human shield while pulling a Makarov pistol from his waistband.

"Fuck! Who's there!" he roared, waving the gun wildly in my direction.

Eva had become his human shield. My heart clenched—this was exactly the situation I'd hoped to avoid .

The kidnapper fired several wild shots. Bullets struck my Bentley, the bulletproof material sparking. One round shattered the driver's side window, glass exploding everywhere.

Damn!

I quickly ducked back, pressing my back against the car. Years of combat experience made my brain work at maximum efficiency in this moment.

I emerged again with my gun raised, but the kidnapper had used my evasion to move Eva toward the van's driver seat, trying to escape. He obviously knew that with Eva in his hands, I couldn't risk taking the shot—especially since he was deliberately using her as cover.

I couldn't let him leave.

I burst from behind the car.

Bang! Bang!

Two bullets—not aimed at him, but at the Ford van's front tires.

The massive sound of exploding tires accompanied the vehicle lurching to one side. Fortunately, the wheels weren't professionally bulletproofed—I'd disabled his escape route.

"Bastard!" the kidnapper shrieked in rage, pressing his gun against Eva's temple and shouting at me, "Let me go or I'll kill her!"

Eva's body was shaking violently, tears streaming down her face, but she wasn't screaming—just biting her lip hard. That stubborn courage was breaking my heart.

"Let her go," I said with unnatural calm. "I'm Ruslan Yvannov—I'm the one you want. Did Joseph send you? Release her, and I'll discuss arms cooperation with Joseph. You can go back and report success."

The kidnapper's face showed hesitation, but he ultimately fired several shots at me.

My body rolled and dodged across the ground, avoiding his bullets. Using the gap while he was shooting at me, and ensuring I wouldn't hit Eva, my gun fired again, striking his gun hand.

He cried out in pain as his weapon clattered to the ground, and his grip on Eva unconsciously loosened .

Eva seized this golden opportunity, using all her strength to break free and throw herself forward onto the ground.

My body reacted faster than my brain—the instant Eva was clear of the danger zone:

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three bullets precisely covered the kidnapper's chest.

Blood blossomed across his torso as his expression of shock and disbelief froze forever. His body fell backward. The gunshots stopped, acrid gun smoke filling the air. The whole world seemed to go quiet except for my heavy breathing.

I ran to Eva.

She was curled on the ground, trembling all over. I knelt beside her and carefully lifted her into my arms.

"Eva." I finally found my voice. "It's over, baby."

I gently rubbed her back.

"Ruslan," her voice was still shaking.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here, I'm here." My lips pressed against her forehead. When I saw the scrapes on her face, murderous rage surged through me again.

"Tell me, where else are you hurt?" I lifted her hands—her palms were scraped and bleeding. I used a clean handkerchief from my pocket to wipe away the blood. The knees of her jeans were torn with wounds mixed into the fabric.

"It's nothing, just from falling on the ground. Not serious," Eva answered.

"I'm taking you to the hospital first." I scooped her up and placed her in the Bentley's passenger seat.

"I want to go home," Eva said after I buckled her seatbelt, tugging at my sleeve with obvious resistance to the hospital. She was probably traumatized by what had just happened.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll take you home now." I covered Eva's hand gripping my sleeve with mine, deciding to treat her wounds at home.

As I was about to drive off, Eva seemed to snap back to reality.

"I need to call an ambulance. People on set are unconscious. "

My heart softened. After experiencing such massive shock and trauma, she was still thinking about others.

"What happened? What went down on set?"

"I don't know exactly," Eva frowned, remembering.

"This afternoon, the coffee and pastries the crew ordered arrived, and everyone was relaxing and eating.

I missed it because I was on a call with my agent, so I was fine.

" Her breathing quickened, fear returning to her eyes.

"When I finished my call, I found everyone unconscious.

No matter how much I called, they wouldn't wake up.

I was terrified and knew something was wrong, so I tried to run out for help.

But just as I reached the door, these two men rushed in and grabbed me. "

I immediately became alert. "Were the coffee delivery people the same ones who'd come to set before?"

Eva shook her head. "I don't remember. I only glanced at them from far away before going to take my call. But they didn't look like the usual coffee shop employees."

"Don't worry. I'll have my people handle it," I said, taking her cold hand.

Eva nodded.

I called Dimitri.

"Пахан," Dimitri answered quickly.

"Eva's film set—several people were drugged unconscious. Call an ambulance to the nearest hospital," I spoke rapidly. "She was kidnapped at the set entrance by two men. I killed them both. Clean up the bodies and investigate immediately."

"Understood." Dimitri quickly processed the information. "I'll investigate the kidnappers' identities right away."

"When I questioned the kidnapper, his reaction suggested he knew Joseph. Start with Joseph!"

"Yes, пахан."

I hung up and drove home.

Back at the seaside mansion, I carried Eva into the living room and settled her on the couch.

"Don't move. I'll get the medical kit."

I hurried to the storage room for the medical supplies. Everything from simple band-aids to professional suturing tools—treating wounds was a basic skill in my line of work.

Returning to the living room, I knelt on one knee in front of her and opened the kit.

"This might hurt a little." I took out iodine and cotton swabs, trying to keep my movements gentle.

I treated the scrapes on her face first—they were relatively minor. Eva bit her lip without making a sound. I successfully cleaned the wounds on her palms. The knee injury was the worst. I carefully cut away the fabric around her knee with scissors.

I used room-temperature bottled water to rinse Eva's knee wound, washing away all the debris. Even though my movements were as gentle as possible, when the iodine touched her serious wound, she couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.

The sound pierced my heart like a needle.

I looked up at her pale face.

I slowed my movements, gently blowing on the wound while treating it, trying to ease her pain. The gesture felt foreign to me, but I didn't care—anything to make her feel better.

"Does it hurt?" I asked unconsciously.

"Not really. Honestly." She shook her head and even managed a smile. "You don't need to be so worried. It's just scraped skin."

Just scraped skin? If I could, I'd rather be the one hurt. Seeing her force a brave smile, my heart felt like it was being crushed.

This feeling was far more terrifying than facing bullets myself. Death had long been commonplace to me. In the bratva world, life was cheap as grass. I'd witnessed countless deaths and caused countless deaths myself.

But now, an unprecedented fear gripped me. This terror was so intense it nearly consumed me completely. I suddenly realized that if I hadn't arrived in time today, if those bastards had actually taken her away...

I couldn't bear to think about it.