Page 82 of Forced By the Bratva

She thought for a second. “I trust you, Ilya. I trust you with my life.”

That sentence thawed something frozen in me, and slowly, my lips curled into a faint smile.

She leaned her head against my shoulder. I let her. My hand found the back of her neck and stayed there, my thumb moving once across her skin.

Neither of us spoke for a long time. The adrenaline was finally starting to drain out, leaving the usual ache in its place.

“We should move,” I said eventually.

“Wait a little longer,” she said, letting out a soft sigh. “I wanna enjoy this moment of peace.”

With everything that had happened these past couple of days, I needed some peace and quiet as well.

The night was still dark enough to hide us, and the only thing that mattered right then was that she was in the car with me, alive.

Thanks to her bravery, we had the package, and it sat between us.

Chapter 27 – Iris

I stood under the shower in the bathroom, the warm water washing over my skin. I rubbed the scented soap over my arms and shoulders, letting the creamy lather melt beneath the steady stream.

My head was full, a million and one thoughts tugging at my mind. A lot was happening at once, and we still had no idea who or what we were dealing with.

Tonight was the first victory we’d recorded since this mess started. At least now we had the box the courier had been moving. Until now, the sound of rapid gunfire still echoed in the back of my head.

I didn’t know what came over me out in the field when I ran toward danger just to secure that package. I guess I saw a window and I took it without thinking twice. If I’d hesitated, we wouldn’t have had the box in our possession.

I still wasn’t sure what was in it because I handed it over to my husband the second we arrived back at the mansion.

I tilted my face toward the water, fingers working shampoo through my hair, and massaging my scalp. Memories of the chase flashed in my mind—Ilya’s reckless driving, the fear in my heart, and the near-death experience at the train tracks.

I’d always known that I married a dangerous man, but the stunt he pulled tonight was way beyond dangerous. I just didn’t have the right word for it yet.

A small grin tugged at my lips as I ran my palms over my curves, reminiscing about the car sex in the middle of nowhere, late at night. It had always been one of my deepest, darkest fantasies: to be fucked in the back seat of a car.

The best part about the sex was that it was spontaneous, driven by the adrenaline rush of surviving what could’ve killed us both.

I tried to lose myself in the memory of the way he fucked me from the back until I almost passed out. I came twice. And even now, the thought of it was making me wet for him.

However, the more I thought about the car sex, the more my mind kept flying back to the unresolved matter in my groin. I knew this wasn’t the right time to get lost in anything that wouldn’t help me find who these people were.

I told myself that since we already had the courier’s box, it was only a matter of time before we’d find something useful.

Once I was done showering, I stepped out in my towel, and while crossing the room, I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. I stopped in my tracks, staring at the woman looking back at me.

I could barely recognize my reflection because the woman in the mirror had changed so much. She was stronger. Smarter. Braver. This woman had survived multiple gun attacks and had faced death more than once.

A few weeks ago, I would’ve hated this version of me. But now, all I felt was pride.

I changed into some fresh clothes and headed downstairs where Ilya and his brother, Ivan, were going through the files we recovered from the mission.

I pushed the door open, and the minute I stepped inside, the men stopped and turned their heads toward me.

The Tarasov brothers were standing behind Ilya’s desk while Boris and Yuri flanked around them.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” I crossed the room. “Do I have something on my face?”

They looked away—Ivan first, then Boris and Yuri followed, their eyes returning to Ilya’s laptop screen.