Page 61 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

I’m going to end this.

One way or another.

The GPS announces my next turn, its cheerful robotic voice almost insulting considering where it’s directing me—an abandoned shipyard near the docks.

Of course.

If there was ever a place perfectly suited for a psychopath like him, it’d be somewhere like this. Out here, he could kill me and throw my body in a shallow grave, and no one would ever know what happened to me.

I’ve snuck out once again, and Igor will be pissed when he finds out. I need to come up with a lie if I make it out of here.

My pulse spikes, but I take deep breaths to calm myself.

Rusted cargo containers stretch endlessly across the property like giant steel tombstones, their faded paint peeled away by years of salt and neglect. Broken cranes loom overhead, skeletal against the pale afternoon sky, while the ocean crashes somewhere beyond the warehouses in a slow, relentless rhythm that makes the entire place feel haunted.

I pull the car over between two crates, get out, and start walking toward the container at the far end of the property. Serrano made his instructions clear in the text he sent me.

Each step feels heavy, like I’m being weighed down, and the closer I get, the harder it becomes to breathe. It’s midsummer and the afternoon sun scorches bitterly against my skin. I’d been in such a hurry to sneak out that I’d forgotten to put on sunscreen.

Two of Serrano’s men are stationed at the entrance. One of them has a large scar that cuts through his eye and ends at the opposite side of his lips. He looks terrifying, like someone who could kill me while staring into my eyes until the light leaves them.

The other one looks no different from Igor’s bodyguards. He’s dressed in all black, his eyes stone cold in a way that makes me wonder if he even has a soul. My stomach twists with fear and I swallow hard, my legs threatening to give out when I stop in front of the guards.

“Where’s Serrano?”

The one without the scar gives me a hard glare that drifts from my face to the soles of my shoes and then back up. “Phone?”

Cold spreads through my veins like poison. For the first time, the fear of dying here hits me. It’s so raw and intense that I clench my fists tight to stop myself from spinning on my heels and running away.

“It’s in my car.”

The men give each other a stare, and then the one with the scar nods at the other. “Search her.”

Every muscle in my body tenses as the one without a scar takes a step forward and runs his hands over my body, starting from my shoulders down to my feet.

His touch is nauseating, and the only reason I don’t throw up is because I hold my breath. Luckily, he keeps it respectful and doesn’t let his hands drift to places they’re not supposed to.

When he’s done, he says, “She’s clear.”

The one with the scar nods and signals for me to follow him.

I do, and when my eyes meet the dark gaze of the man sitting on a swivel chair at the far end of the container, a prickling feeling crawls over the back of my neck. I’m standing in front of Serrano.

Or should I say, Emiliano.

The man I’ve been working for all along without realizing who he truly was. My husband’s enemy…and now mine.

He says, “You’re late,” his gruff voice echoing in the empty container as he leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. The man looks like the devil in a suit, and I’ll be damned before I show an iota of fear in front of him.

He doesn’t deserve my fear. So, even as my hands tremble and my heart beats too loudly against my ribcage, I straighten my spine and look him in the eyes.

“Let’s get straight to business. I’m not here for chitchat.” I keep my tone even. Fearless.

His brow cocks and a wicked smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not surprised it’s me.”

I tilt my head, mirroring his confidence the best I can. “I already figured it out when you said you killed Joaquin. You’re not as mysterious as you think you are, Serrano…or should I call you Emiliano now?”

His brows pinch and his smile vanishes. “I don’t like mouthy women.”