Page 78 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride

With my pulse roaring in my ears, I try to push out the static in my head—the raw panic that makes my knees feel weaker than usual.

I force air in and out of my lungs, and as I spot the side of the patio layered with trimmed hedges and overgrown ivy, I lock onto it. I just need to get there.

My heart rate spikes as I feel the scrape of fingernails against my arm. A fumble.

Then, with a lurch forward, a hand catches my arm.

My breath hitches, and the grasp on me rips me sideways until I lose my footing.

I go to scream—to alert anyone nearby. Then something damp clamps over my mouth, forcing me to suck in a sickly sweet aroma that makes me cough.

That hold on me is rough and uncaring, and the chemicals in my senses tear me from the present.

Everything shifts into a blurry canvas, and then it all fades to nothing.

Chapter 27 - Roman

Something’s wrong—I feel it before I hear anything.

Then, the sound of someone crying in the distance only confirms that inclination, and I’m on my feet just as a shrill voice reaches me.

“Roman!”

My blood runs cold, and I hurry across the patio, skipping the steps to find my sister a few feet away, hunched over while she sobs. Our brothers are close behind me.

My brows furrow as I take in the sight of her—barefoot and hobbling like she hurt her ankle, skin uncharacteristically pale and streaked with tears.

Worst of all, she’s alone.

The moment she sees me, she breaks, losing all semblance of her composure.

I’m there in an instant, collecting her in my grasp before she can fall.

“Elena, what happened?” I ask her, concern wrapping me up so tightly I can hardly breathe. I steady her with my hands on both her arms. “Where’s Victoria?”

Elena pulls in a shattered breath, unable to look at me. “They took her…Victoria—they grabbed her before I could stop them. I tried, Roman—”

My stomach drops, but I force myself to stay steady regardless of how I immediately feel off balance. I cup her cheek, making her look at me. “How many?”

“Two, I think…maybe three,” she says with a sniffle, looking more terrified than I’ve seen her in a long time. “Theywere fast—had masks. They almost took me, too…but they wanted Victoria.”

My expression hardens at that, but I pull in a slow, almost painful breath, barely focusing on her face at that point.

Elena’s chin wobbles. “I’m so sorry, Roman—”

“Don’t be,” I murmur, pulling her in briefly to offer her what comfort I can despite the tension rippling through me, threatening to set me off. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

She coughs and wipes at her eyes, nodding before I let her go again.

Mikhail swoops in, expression tight as he hooks an arm around Elena’s shoulders and shields her, letting her cry it out. “What happened?”

“Maxim has her,” I mutter, letting it slip like a curse.

Everything stills at once, punctuating the flicker of silence between us.

Nikolaev took her…it couldn’t be clearer.

Victoria..my wife, the mother of my child, my everything…