Page 13 of Kidnapped Bride

I closed the distance and knocked the weapon from his hand, sending it clattering across the floor before grabbing him by the front of his shirt and forcing him upward and into the wall.

A grunt escaped him as I slammed him hard, and his knees buckled, but I kept him upright.

Yakov rounded the corner with his gun up but he missed all the fun.

“You work for Markin?” I snarled, and Yakov glanced at the front of the store. He looked nervous, and I didn't blame him. With cops a few blocks away, we had seconds, not minutes.

He hesitated, his breathing uneven as he tried to hold himself together. I tightened my grip and drove him back into the wall again, harder this time, and the fight went out of him.

“Yes,” he rasped, and blood dribbled from his lip.

He was bleeding into his lungs, which meant he might die before he even got back to Markin. But I had to send this message anyway.

“You’re going to carry a message back to him,” I told him, holding him there so he couldn’t look away. “You tell him I have his daughter, and if he doesn’t back off my territory, I will kill her.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re lying,” he choked out. "She's?—"

I pressed the barrel of my gun against his head and held it there. “Does this feel like a lie to you?” I asked.

He swallowed and didn’t answer, which was answer enough. So I shoved him. hard again before I let him go. I heard the sirens and knew we had to get out of there. When my eyes met Yakov's he said, "Boss, we gotta go." He was already moving, pushing past the bleeding man toward the back door. He gave me a shove, and I knew he was only trying to protect me, but my job here was done.

Markin would get that message about his daughter and hopefully, he'd start to back off.

If not, he would reach out to me and demand I return her and we'd get to the bottom of this shit once and for all.

Either way, my plan was now in motion.

I just had to avoid the cops long enough to keep it on the right track.

4

KIRA

I beat on the door over and over but now I barely felt it.

After more than twenty-four hours of this, I was beginning to feel numb to it.

The skin over my knuckles had gone raw hours ago and the pain had dulled, like the ache in my throat from screaming.

"Let me out!" My voice was hoarse and weak, and I hated myself for how stupid I'd been.

I couldn't believe how Nikolai had fooled me so easily.

And now I was just his little captive toy, not even worthy of his coming to talk to me.

I'd slept at some point during the night. Maybe two hours, maybe three.

I couldn't tell because there wasn't a clock in the room and the sleep was garbage, anyway.

I kept jolting awake every twenty minutes thinking I heard the door and he was coming back.

And every time it happened, my heart was beating harder and it got harder to get back to sleep.

When I finally gave up and went back to the door and the banging, a plate of eggs was shoved at me like I was a dog, and that was it. I'd been standing here all day on the verge of tears.

"You can't keep me in here!" I shouted, and my throat burned.

It felt like I'd gargled broken glass.