Page 175 of Betrayal and Vows

“Get the fuck off her!” The driver shouts.

Lev drops his hand. “I will kill you.”

“Good luck with that,” I gasp.

I don’t know how long we drive—thirty minutes. An hour?

Every minute takes me farther from Anton.

The van swerves, throwing me against the metal wall. My shoulder screams in protest, but it's nothing compared to theterror clawing at my chest. I try to curl into a ball to protect my stomach.

The baby.

Our baby.

After he left, I asked my mother to get me a test. I already knew what the results would be, but I had to know for certain.

I’ve only known for sure for a couple of hours, but there is no denying it.

I’m pregnant.

And Anton might die never knowing he was going to be a father.

Hot tears threaten again, but I blink them back. I have to stay strong. For both of us now.

The van careens around a corner, and I'm thrown to the other side. My ribs connect with something sharp—a toolbox maybe—and pain lances through me. I curl around my middle protectively.

Stay alive, I tell myself. Whatever happens, stay alive.

Suddenly, gunfire erupts outside. The van screeches to a halt, throwing me forward. I hear men shouting. More shots. The acrid smell of gunpowder seeps through the metal walls.

My captors are yelling at each other, panic in their voices. One of them kicks the van doors, cursing.

Who is it? More of Vadim's men? Mikhail’s men.

The back doors fly open, and I brace myself for whatever fresh hell awaits.

Instead, I see a face I never thought I'd be so grateful to see.

"Dmitri!"

He's covered in blood. His usually perfect hair is wild, but his blue eyes are fierce and determined.

He grins at me as he looks at the unconscious Lev. “Did you do that, you little tiger?”

“I didn’t knock him out but I did break his nose.”

“Good girl.”

He cuts through my zip ties with a knife, his hands surprisingly gentle.

"Come on," he says, helping me out of the van. "Let's get you out of here. Anton is not going to be happy with this."

Bodies litter the ground around us.

"Anton," I gasp as he guides me toward a waiting SUV. "Where's Anton? Is he?—"

"Hospital," Dmitri says tersely, not meeting my eyes. "We need to get there. Now."