Page 76 of Prey of the Bratva

“Rumors travel fast in our world, Misha,” he continued, watching me carefully now. “Even across oceans. Surely you must know that? Given that you were born in this world.”

I didn’t react or give him anything that might be used as evidence to confirm his assumption. But he saw it anyway. The smallest shift in my expression and the tension in my shoulders. His smile returned, much wider this time.

“Kliment Romanov,” he said, almost thoughtfully. The name settled into the room like a weight. “He seems rather invested in you, don’t you think so?”

My pulse didn’t change, and my breathing didn’t shift outwardly, but something inside me tightened. Despite that, I was not going to let him see it. I knew exactly what all of this world. Connections to powerful men in the Bratva world were beneficial but dangerous at the same time because they always had enemies. And Sidorov and Kliment were definitely enemies.

“You’re mistaken,” I said evenly.

“Am I?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering.

“Because from where I stand,” he murmured, “your value in my eyes and the eyes of our several different buyers has certainly multiplied with just this one little detail. Sure, you were valuable as a Chernykh, but do you know how many people in Russia hate the Romanovs? Do you know just how valuable you are to them now?”

There it was. None of this was about power or leverage, but in Sidorov’s and Volkov’s world, everything was about value. That was all they calculated and measured. I immediately knew what all of it meant. They wanted to sell me off. The word formedbefore I could stop it, and my stomach dropped, but not from fear of pain or the situation itself, but from the clarity in his tone.

This wasn’t personal. This was business.

“The symbolism alone,” he continued, almost amused, “will fetch a record price.”

For a fraction of a second, something cold and sharp clawed up my spine, but I forced it down immediately. Locked it away before it could reach my expression. I didn’t have the time for this. Any of this.

“You’re underestimating what happens next,” I said instead, my voice calm, deliberate.

“Oh?” he prompted.

“My brothers and Kliment will burn Miami down to ashes looking for me, especially now that they know that you have me. Do you seriously think you can kidnap a Chernykh, threaten to sell her off, and live to see the day?”

I held his gaze.

That finally got me a real reaction from him, but where I had expected fear, tension, or concern, I got laughter instead. Completely unrestrained laughter as if I had just cracked the joke of the century.

“Oh, Misha, you are so naïve. We are not in Miami anymore, my darling,” he said. “Did you seriously think I would keep you there, just waiting for your brothers to come get us?’

The words hit harder than anything else he had said. We were not in Miami, which meant this had escalated much further than I could have imagined. I was no longer reachable in the ways I had planned for which meant escaping would not be easy either. My mind moved instantly, recalculating, shifting, and adjusting, but I felt lost, even if I didn’t allow Sidorov to see it.

“Where are we?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He smiled slow and satisfied. “Saint Petersburg.”

My world tilted internally as I realized we were directly on Volkov’s territory. For half a second, horror brushed the edges of my mind, distancing me from my own self. It felt as if everything I had hoped for and accounted for was suddenly gone. Just like that. I felt it rise, sharp and immediate. But then I crushed it. Because fear was a luxury I could not afford. Because the reaction was information, and I would not give him that. So I inhaled slowly and let it out.

“In that case, you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life, Sidorov,” I said quietly.

His brow lifted slightly. “Have I? How so?”

“Yes.” I met his gaze again, steady, unyielding. “Because now, you’ve brought me somewhere that Kliment knows better than you ever will. And you were right, he is a little more invested in me than someone usually should be, which only means he will come back stronger and angrier, and that is not going to be very good for you.”

Something flickered in his eyes then. It was not doubt but something closer to irritation. Good. That meant it mattered.

“You are assuming he will be able to find you,” he said.

“He will.” There was no hesitation or uncertainty in my voice. It was just a plain, simple fact.

He studied me for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether I believed that, and I did. Completely, because I knew Kliment and I had seen what he became when something mattered. And this mattered.

“Confidence again,” he said finally. “I see.”