“I wouldn’t judge every man by your brother’s standards.”
I laugh bitterly. “You’re trying to suggest that you’re different?”
“My mother wasn’t born into this world,” he tells me. “But she’s run the Bratva beside my father for over two decades now. So yes, I’d say I’m different.”
My blood runs cold. “Bratva?”
He smiles. He clearly knows that I understand everything that word implies. “Nobody’s a nobody in this world,” he says, repeating my own words back to me.
A new sensation of dread engulfs me. Whatever this shit is that I’ve gotten snared in… it doesn’t look good.
“What are you doing here with Kian O’Sullivan?” I ask in a hollow croak.
“We’re family,” he says.
I frown. Family. Not allies, but family. The terminology takes me by surprise. Apparently, the Bratva has a closer relationship to Kian O’Sullivan than I would’ve ever guessed. That doesn’t seem good for me, either.
The vehicle begins to slow down. I stiffen as the back doors are thrown open. The men get out first, but I stay put, sinking in to the seat stubbornly.
One of the silent men who hopped out turns to look at the dark-eyed guy who’s been questioning me. “Phoenix?” he asks, looking for orders.
The young man—Phoenix, apparently—holds up a hand to the man as if to say, I’ll handle this. The pair of bodyguards shrug, turn, and leave.
Then the Bratva man turns to me. “Come on,” he says, gesturing me forward.
I don’t move. “Phoenix, huh?”
He nods. “And you?”
I don’t know why I tell him. It just comes out. “Renata.”
“Well, come on, Renata,” he says gruffly. “Don’t make me drag you out.”
“You should know I don’t do well with threats.”
“And I don’t do well with disobedience.”
Disobedience? The word sends a jolt of anger coursing through me. It only makes me dig my heels in harder.“Fuck you. I’m not a trained dog. And I won’t make it easier for you assholes to take me prisoner.”
Phoenix opens his mouth to retort. But before he can get a single word out, a sickeningly familiar voice lashes in from the darkness beyond the open van doors. “Let me handle this.”
Oh God… That voice. Like a blade scraping the marrow out of my bones.I shiver, Phoenix slips aside, and then Kian O’Sullivan is in here with me, blocking out what little light there was.
The cut over his brow has already bruised badly, but he can still see through both his eyes. Unfortunate, really. Guess I’ve got to work on my aim.
“Get out,” he says in a tone that brooks no argument.
But I’ve always liked a good argument. “Fuck you.”
He sighs with exasperation. Then he lunges forward and snags my ankle in one huge, powerful hand.
I scream, “No! No! Get the fuck off of me!” as I thrash around.
He ignores me and drags me across the floor of the vehicle by my ankle. At the ledge, he hops down, then turns to hoist me over his shoulder and starts striding away into the night.
I can’t see where we’re going. And even if I could, I’m way too pissed off by the indignity of being manhandled like a sack of potatoes to take note of my surroundings.
I hammer at Kian’s back. If it hurts him, he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t so much as flinch. I scream until my throat is hoarse and then I scream some more. But it isn’t until the floral scent of perfume and high luxury hits my nostrils that I stop to breathe.