Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
A large Russian man has his arm wrapped around Emma from behind, a pistol pressed against the side of her head. He’s covered in tattoos, like the two men standing behind him, each holding a rifle.
“Should have gagged the bitch,” the Russian manhandling her says.
“No,” one of the men behind him says, laughing gruffly. “This is better. Now we have the leader. Big reward for this.”
I step forward, holding my pistol at my side. Dario’s nowhere to be seen, which is a good thing. When it comes to fighting, we both usually have good instincts. I’ve let mine get clouded. Emma’s eyes are wide with fear, and her breath is coming quickly. I can see that. I shouldn’t have charged in here, but Dario’s out there in the shadows.
“Drop the gun, American,” the manhandling prick says, “or I kill this bitch. I execute her, or maybe I put a bullet in your kneecap and make you watch.”
“Watch what?” the man behind says, laughing in that ugly way. “Good luck getting it up with this one.”
I’m shuddering, attempting to contain the explosions erupting inside of me, detonations over and over.
“Emma, it’s going to be okay,” I tell her.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. Not with me. Never.”
“How sweet.” The leader shakes Emma, causing her to whimper in fear. “Now. Drop. The. Gun.”
With no other choice, I do as he says, but that doesn’t mean these bastards will get away with this. Insulting my woman, threatening her, hurting her… Nobody will ever get away with that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Emma
The man’s body is way too close, reeking of cigarettes, sweat, and the leather from his jacket. The gun barrel is icy cold and pushed against the side of my head, his voice ugly and guttural as he goes on.
“I could fuck her, yes? You wouldn’t mind? Who is she to you, American?”
Leo moves forward slowly, his hands raised, staring with dark intent in his eyes. He stares at my—oh, irony, there you are—kidnapper like he’d happily snap his neck.
“She’s nobody,” he snaps, then glances at me.
I read the message in his eyes. Even the argument and my silly attempt at escape aren’t enough to eradicate our connection. He’s only saying this so the Russians don’t see me as important.
“Oh, really?” the kidnapper says. “So you don’t mind if I do this?”
I shift against him as his hand slides down toward my chest.
“No, no, stop,” I pant.
Leo tries to keep a poker face, but when the Russian almost fondles me, he opens his mouth in a primal roar. All the agony at the life these men are trying to steal comes thundering out.
“Don’t lay a fucking finger on her!”
The entire forest seems to tremble under the force of his words, his muscles straining out of his suit.
The Russian laughs. “I do not believe it. Leonardo Esposito with this thing? This is a confusing turn of events.”
“How did you find us?” Leo growls. “Huh? How the fuck did you find us?”
Leo creeps closer and closer. Luckily, the man isn’t threatening to touch me anymore. I think he just wanted to confirm I’m valuable. I’ve done so much wrong. I spent hours in my room stewing about the argument, angry at myself, Leo, and the world. Even angry at Rosa for being my best friend and making it impossible to be with the man of my dreams. All I had to do was wait to calm down and wait for the craziness to pass, but no, I fed it. I threw logs on the fire until it raged, and climbing the tree seemed like a good idea.
“Fyodor has known about this place for a long time. He always guessed you would come here if things got really bad. We have had it surrounded ever since your little ladies arrived.”
“Little?” a man behind me says, laughing darkly. “I don’t think I understand the word if she is little.”
Leo bites down, glaring. “Insult my woman again…”
Despite everything, hearing him call me his woman in front of people—even thugs who want me dead—gives my body warm shivers. I’m filled with heat and belonging, yet it could all be taken away because I made the stupidest decision of my life.
“And what?” the man snaps. “There’s nothing you can do. Get on your knees. We’re going to cuff you and take you to the boss. When we arrived here, we didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come out here to offer yourself. You are not a very smart person, American.”
“If you think I’d ever kneel for the Bratva, you’re living in a goddamn fantasy.”
“Would you rather I kill the pig?”
I shouldn’t care what this monster says about me, but his words are cutting. It takes me back to high school when I stopped being invisible just long enough for the other kids to call me names.