Page 101 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

“The basement!” he gasps out, choking as tears of pain stream down his face. “She’s down in the basement!”

“Take me there,” I command, my tone cold enough to freeze water.

I keep my iron grip clamped tightly on his throat, using his broken, useless arm to shove him forward like a human shield as he stumbles toward the heavy iron door leading down into the dark basement.

At the bottom of the stairs, a single flickering bulb illuminates the room, and there she is. I find Sofia strapped and tied tightly to a wooden chair. Her blue eyes are wide and round with pure terror, but the exact second she spots me, the fear instantly evaporates from her face, replaced by absolute, overwhelming relief.

Seeing that look—realizing that in the middle of this absolute hell, she trusts me completely to save her—sends a sharp, primal jolt of desire straight to my cock. She’s mine, and she knows it.

The kidnapper groans on the floor, trying to crawl away. Without even looking down at him, I step on his back, reach down, and snap his neck with a swift, brutal twist. I don’t give him a single glance as his body crumples completely lifeless against the concrete.

I drop to my knees in front of Sofia, yanking the rough ropes off her body and throwing them aside. I lift her to her feet, my hands flying over her arms, her shoulders, and her face, frantically checking every inch of her to make sure there are no injuries.

She lets out a breathless, trembling chuckle, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she leans into my touch. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “I was so scared, Lukyan.”

“I’ll never let this happen again,” I vow, my voice thick with a dark, protective rage. “Never.”

She offers me a small, fragile smile and nods. Before she can take another step on her shaky legs, I scoop her up, lifting her securely into my arms. I hold her tightly against my chest, shielding her face against my neck as I carry her back up the stairs and into the main warehouse. I have absolutely no intention of letting her go, not even when I step past the bodies and find my men clearing the room.

Ben wipes blood from his tactical vest as I approach. “Status?” I bark.

“The area is secure, Boss,” Ben reports, looking at Sofia to make sure she’s intact.

“Did you keep one of them alive for questioning?”

Ben’s expression darkens. “We had one pinned. I kept him breathing. But the second I asked him who put out the contract, the bastard grabbed the nearest dropped weapon and shot himself straight in the head. Didn’t even hesitate.”

I narrow my eyes as a cold chill settles over the fury in my chest. To commit suicide rather than risk speaking means only one thing. Whoever sent these men on this errand must be incredibly powerful, a shadow so terrifying that death by one’s own hand is considered the easier way out.

The sheer audacity of this attack confirms what I’ve been trying to deny: the situation is far from contained. Sofia is at the absolute center of something much larger and much deadlier than a simple turf war.

But as I look down at her buried against my chest, her fingers clutching my shirt for dear life, it solidifies the one truth I have been actively avoiding acknowledging. She’s no longer just a chess piece in my plan. She’s no longer just Creed’s daughter or a means to an end.

Losing her isn’t an acceptable outcome. I’ll burn the entire world to ash before I let anyone take her from me again.

Chapter 17 – Sofia

I wake up from a restless nap, the shadows of the bedroom long and heavy across the floor. It’s been a few days since the kidnapping, and I’m still desperately trying to recover from the physical and emotional aftermath of what happened.

While I’m physically safe, the fragile sense of security I had slowly begun to build within these walls has been completely shattered all over again. The estate feels entirely different now; it feels less like a controlled, luxurious environment and more like a brittle shield against an invisible threat that is constantly closing in on us.

But despite the dark clouds hanging over my head, I feel strangely light whenever I look at my husband. Lukyan has been with me the entire time. He has barely left my side since he carried me out of that horrific warehouse. He sleeps beside me every single night, holding me securely through the dark hours, feeding me food, bringing me drinks, and ensuring he is always the very first thing I see when I open my eyes.

I’m entirely dependent on him now, my life tethered completely to his strength, and the terrifying part is… I don’t hate it at all.

So, when I blink the sleep from my eyes and realize his side of the bed is completely empty, my stomach instantly hollows out with a sharp twist of panic. No. I need him. I don’t care if he’s buried in mafia business or completely swamped with work—I’ll go sit quietly on the floor of his office if I have to, just to be near him.

I slowly slide my legs out from under the heavy duvet. The earth tilts violently for a few seconds, dizziness washing over me, and I have to grip the nightstand, waiting until the room rights itself before I attempt to walk.

I wasn’t physically injured during the ambush, but Lukyan absolutely insisted that the family doctor come over to examine me and prescribe some heavy pills. I’ve been taking them diligently, and while they definitely help to keep me calm and numb the phantom pains of the crash, they leave me feeling incredibly weak and drowsy.

Stepping out into the grand hallway, I make my way toward his private study, keeping my steps light and slow so I don’t lose my balance. He didn’t mention that he was going out today, so I am certain I’ll find him inside.

I’m almost at the heavy mahogany study doors when the sound of muffled voices drifts through the slight crack in the wood. I recognize Lukyan’s deep, low baritone immediately, and an instinctive smile touches my lips.

But his voice is followed by another—his brother, Samuel. I’ve only met Samuel a handful of times, just enough to know he’s entirely different from my husband.

Where Lukyan is a wall of cold, unyielding granite, Samuel possesses a much more relaxed, approachable appearance. He’s far more outwardly expressive and animated than his older brother, carrying himself with a lightness that Lukyan completely lacks.