Page 149 of The Bratva Sinner

I close my eyes for two seconds.

“She is strong. Healthy. Beautiful. Exactly what he wanted.” He pauses. “She will be his wife. She will produce his sons. She will live in his house for the rest of her life.”

All this time, I knew there was someone above Arlind. Someone she was meant for. I thought I’d understood what that meant, but I hadn’t. Not until now.

They hunted her for nine years. Not for a debtor a grudge, but for what runs in her veins. For sons who would carry a warrior's blood into the next generation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I called her voinitsa the first night I had her in my bed.My warrior.

I pull against the zip tie, and the plastic bites into my wrists. I've felt this exact helplessness before. I was sixteen, standing on the other side of a wall, too small to do anything. I swore I would never be here again. And here I am. I cannot let her end up like my mother. Iwillnot.

I have nothing left to bargain with except myself. So that's what I put on the table.

“You can have me.”

Arlind gives me a cold smile.

“You can have me. You cannot have her.”

“He doesn’t want you. He’s always only wanted her. You have made me look bad. I get to kill you, and gain some standing in the community, and he gets her.”

“He’ll never find her,” I hiss.

“She will eventually be found,” he says. “The world is not that big.”

“You think you know me.” I let the anger bleed through my words. “You think you know my family. We will destroy you. The Albanian operation will be dismantled. Destroyed. Every person with any ties to it will be killed. You think you’re ruthless? You’re a dead man walking, Arlind.”

“You’re stalling,” he says.

“No. I’m just letting you know that I’ll see you in hell.”

He stands from the chair and smooths the front of his jacket.

“She will be found,” he says. “This I promise you. Whether it is tonight or in ten years.” He leans forward. “The krye takes pleasure in delivering pain. Your little wife will bleed. She’ll cry out for you. But she will not die.”

I pull harder against my restraints. Fire burns through me.

He turns toward the door.

“Arlind?”

He stops.

I smile. “Nikolai is going to enjoy cutting off your fingers. Toes. Dick. He loves pulling teeth. It’s a weird thing.”

“We’ll see.”

“See you in hell,” I call out.

The guard near the door resumes his position. The other one cracks his knuckles, and I brace for another round.

He doesn’t move toward me yet.

I’m barely holding it together. Damien better not fail. I know the life in store for her.

She has to use the out. She has to go.