The Bratva’s Captive Read online Jane Henry (Wicked Doms #3)

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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I walk out to the porch to meet them. The rest of the house still sleeps.

When I step outside, Kazimir looks up at me in surprise.

Family life has been kind to him. Though he has some more gray around his temples and in his beard, his eyes have gentled. He no longer wears a perpetual frown, and he smiles more readily than he ever did. The former brigadier of our brotherhood, he retired from the Bratva and came to live in America with his wife, Sadie. They now have two small children and are every bit in love as the day they came here. Karol, who calls me "Uncle Maks," is three years old, and little Yolanda under a year. It's a busy life, but beautiful, and makes me long for the same.

I wanted babies with my Taya.

Though Kazimir and Sadie want nothing at all to do with Bratva life anymore after Kazimir's resignation, when Demyan asked them if we could visit, they welcomed us here. Demyan came with his new wife Larissa, and the three of us have been here a few days. Sadie and Larissa became instant friends. Demyan, Kazimir, and I are like brothers. We're family, though none of us are related by blood.

"Maksym," Kazimir says. He doesn't say anything else. He knows I don't want to talk. I'm surprised I even came out here but being around the children makes me smile.

I sit across from him on a worn wooden deck chair, when little Yolanda reaches her chubby arms for me. I hesitate, but Kazimir chuckles.

"She wants a hug from the big teddy bear, Uncle Maks." I smile and open my arms, taking her and settling her on my lap. She lays against my chest, playing with my beard and giggling.

"Such a sweet little girl," I whisper. The first words I've spoken in so long, my voice is husky and rough from disuse. It feels good to talk to her. Healing, even. Kazimir tenses when he hears my voice. He knows I don't want to speak of what happened, but I know he's been worried about me.

"She is very sweet," Kazimir says, as if my talking isn't out of the ordinary at all. "Intelligent, like her mother."

"And fierce, like her father," Sadie says from the doorway, walking out onto the deck wearing a robe and carrying a cup of coffee. She looks with concern to me. "Coffee, Maksym?"

I shake my head and force myself to respond. "Thank you, no." Her pretty face breaks out into a smile and her eyes dampen when I talk to her. She says nothing, but reaches a hand out and gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

"And what about your husband?" Kazimir asks with mock offense.

"My husband can have whatever he wants," Sadie responds with a smile. She turns to go inside, when Demyan meets her at the door, clad in shorts and a t-shirt. His eyes are sober, his face drawn and stern.

Something is wrong.

"Sadie, would you take the baby?" Demyan asks calmly. "I need to talk to Kazimir and Maksym alone."

I sit up straighter and inhale. I know this feeling. I know his look. He's about to deliver news we won't want to hear. The hairs on the back of my arms stand on end. Sadie's eyes quickly go to Kazimir, who gives her a serious, reassuring nod. She takes the baby from me, who clings and wails, while Demyan and Kazimir watch in sober silence. Sadie shuts the door behind her.

"What is it?" I ask him. He turns to me with a sorrowful expression, his lips turned down in a frown. His eyes are bloodshot, and I wonder if he hasn't adjusted to the time difference, or perhaps he never slept at all the night before.

"Demyan." Kazimir says. "Out with it."

But it's me Demyan's looking at.

"It's Taya, Maksym." Something slides between my rib cage, making it difficult to breathe. The air in my lungs constricts, my hands fisting by my sides.

"What about her?" I grit out.

His concern morphs to fury. "Taya's been killed."

* * *

It's a sixteen-hour flight from Washington to home. Larissa and Demyan sleep for much of the trip, but I don't. It's hard enough waking in a cold sweat to my own tortured screams when I'm in bed. I have no interest in doing so on a plane. The sun is barely rising when we touch down on the runway. My eyes burn from lack of sleep, my bones suffused with a heavy, leaden feeling.

They killed Taya.

Who? The only enemies we have are The Thieves.

How did they find her? How did they know she was mine?

This is my punishment. My consequence for escaping them.

"Maksym, did you sleep at all?" Larissa looks at me with concern, frowning.

I shake my head. "No, but I'm fine," I tell her. We both know it's a lie.


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