M I L A N A
he roar of an engine fills my ears. Slowly, my surroundings become less hazy. It takes me a while to recall my last memories, but when I do, I turn rigid.
I had been ready to go home with Lyov from the club. The ridiculously handsome, muscle-bound bratva member who had captured my attention so quickly.
Then, I’d felt a needle in my arm and had passed out. I shake my head, still feeling the effects of the drugs he shot into me. This is bad. Whoever he is, he is no friend. An enemy of my father most likely.
My mouth is dry, and the rag stuffed in it doesn’t help. I try to move, but the restraints on my wrists and ankles are too tight.
Fuck.
God knows how long we’ve been driving. Trust me to pick a fucking kidnapper to go home with. Pavel will be going out of his damn mind. He will have alerted my father already.
My father may not give a shit about me, but once he figures out they’ve snatched me, he will stop at nothing to find me and kill those responsible.
He doesn’t like people taking his things. That’s what he sees me as—a possession. I’ve frequently heard him trying to bargain with me, offering me to the son’s of other pakhans in exchange for more money or power. Up to now, they haven’t offered him anything tempting enough to agree.
I rock against the restraints, trying to rip them from the wall. The best I can do is make muffled cries of help through the thick fabric in my mouth. I can’t believe this is happening.
Suddenly, the vehicle swerves, and I’m knocked into the side. My heart rate spikes, and I begin to panic. I frantically grip at the restraints, trying to pull myself free. It’s no use. They are welded to the van walls — this van must be used for this regularly.
The guy is super hot, but clearly a total creep. Kate will think I’m with him all night after the text I sent, so she won’t raise the alarm bells. By the time they realize I’m missing, it will be too damn late.
The van pulls to a stop, and my heart beats out of my chest. Terror freezes my muscles and makes me sick to the stomach. I stay frozen to the spot, waiting and listening.
The click of the van door opening and shutting makes me whimper. It’s not a coincidence that not long after I start making noise, this asshole has stopped.
Lyov, if that’s his real name, flings open the door and glares at me. His gaze softens the moment he sees my face. The rage he had in his eyes had been hot and fiery.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls.
I whimper out of fear and try to back toward the wall of the van. It’s impossible, considering I’m tied so tightly by the restraints.
He steps into the van and shuts the door behind him, making me sick to the stomach. I’m no stranger to the brutality of the bratva. He is an enemy and will treat me as such. I avert my gaze, unable to watch as he approaches me.
I gasp as he grabs the restraints from the wall and yanks me forward.
What is he going to do to me?
A shiver runs down my spine as I wait for him to say something or do something. I expect pain, but instead, his rough hands fumble at the gag, and he unties it.
I swallow hard, thankful that the gag is no longer restricting me.
Although I don’t dare breathe a word.
“Milana, don’t make me hurt you,” he grits out, shaking his head. “If you obey me, you can sit upfront.”
His words surprise me. Despite the cold tone of his voice, the fact he’d allow me out of the back of the van isn’t what I expected.
I nod my head in response, searching his eyes. He is looking at me with that same fiery passion he observed me with in the club. Within seconds, he breaks eye contact and looks anywhere but at me.
I attempt to stand, but his hand slips around my throat, gripping me tightly and forcing me to meet his hot gaze. “If you disobey me once, you’ll wish you had stayed tied up in the back of this van.” The tone of his voice sends shivers down my spine.
I believe him. He is part of the bratva and would kill me if his pakhan ordered him to. He lets go of my throat and moves to untie the restraints. Once I’m free, he lifts me effortlessly to my feet.
For a moment, he remains still, holding me close. So close our breath mingles, and that same electric pulse ignites in the air between us. I lick my bottom lip, which is so damn dry.
His eyes dip to my lips, and I can feel the tension heightening.
Despite the fact he kidnapped me, I still want to feel those demanding lips against mine again. His eyes harden, and then he forces me around. The rope grazes against my skin as he ties my hands behind my back. The rope cuts into my skin and is too tight.
I gasp as he drags me into the passenger’s seat of the van. I watch as he buckles me in, ensuring he doesn’t meet my gaze once.
I sit back, letting out a deep breath the moment he slams the door to walk to the driver’s side. Once back inside, he turns over the engine without saying a word. He doesn’t look at me.
I feel my stomach twist with unease. “Where are you taking me?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“No questions,” he grunts, without glancing my way.
I sit back in the seat and shut my eyes, accepting it’s probably best to do as he says at the moment. Tied up in a van, I’m never going to be able to escape. Perhaps once we get to where we’re going, I will be able to getaway.
I swallow hard and stare out of the window as tears prickle my eyes. My father always said I was weak. It looks like he was right. I fell straight into this man’s trap so quickly.
How stupid I was to think he would want me.
The man is so utterly handsome and brutal. The lump in my throat hurts as I watch the landscape rush by. I don’t know where we are going or who this man is, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got no power here.
My mind feels hazy, and my vision isn’t as clear as it usually is. The drugs Lyov pumped me with are still in my system. I can feel the effects of them.
Shutting my eyes, I lean back in the passenger’s seat. At least this is more comfortable than the cold, metal floor of the back of the van.
The drone of the engine carries me off into a troubled sleep.
MY NECK ACHES as I wake up, slumped against the van door. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but as I come to my senses, everything hits me at once. My wrists are rubbed raw from the rope tied tightly around them.
Lyov is staring straight ahead, focusing on the road. I shift in the seat and sit upright, looking out of the window to try and work out where we are. A sign for Chicago catches my attention. We’re only a hundred miles from it, which means we have been out of Florida for a long time.
“Where are we going?” I ask, wishing I could rub my hand against my aching neck.
Lyov doesn’t look at me. “No talking.”
I sigh heavily and glance out of the window, taking in the landscape. Rain is drizzling down in a constant stream, and the clouds in the sky cast a dark grey over the entire land. It’s as depressing as this situation.
It’s almost impossible to believe that I’d thought Lyov wanted me. He was playing me. I swallow hard, feeling stupid. A man like him never wants a girl like me. I’m nothing special, and I’m certainly no fitness model.
Although, in the club, there was no doubt he was hard. Maybe that’s how he is with any girl he dances with. I push the thoughts from my mind and steal a glance at my captor. He clenches his jaw tightly as he stares at the road with such intensity.
“Is your name really Lyov?” I ask.
His muscles tense, and he grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. A long drawn out silence ensues, and I’m almost certain he has no intention of answering me. “Yes,” he grunts.
Short answers seem to be his thing. He’s definitely not talkative. It’s hard to believe this is the same man that had been all over me in the club. He’s a good actor. Maybe he chose the wrong line of work.
“What outfit do you belong to?” I ask, hoping that maybe we could make this a little less dull by chatting.
“New York,” he grunts.
Wow, he has no intention of making this more comfortable for me. “I assume your pakhan has instructed you to snatch me over a disagreement with my father?”
He swerves the van and pulls to an abrupt stop, jerking me forward in the process. His eyes meet mine with such intensity. I can’t understand whether he’s looking at me as if he wants to kill me or fuck me. It is similar to the way he looked at me in the club.
I swallow hard as he grabs my throat. It shouldn’t ignite need, but it does. Anytime this man is rough and dominant with me, it gets me going like nothing ever has. I lick my bottom lip, which draws his eyes to them. “What are you going to do to me?”
His eyes flash, and nostrils flare. “Stop talking,” he growls.
Most women would probably cower away at his tone, but I like it. It’s wrong but true. The need to be claimed by this man is clawing at me, even now.
“Or what?” I ask.
He squeezes my throat even harder in a warning. It’s not enough to pose any danger, but it hurts a little. A hurt that makes my need for him increase. I’ve always found dominant men attractive but never met one. My first boyfriend was anything but dominant. I get a feeling Lyov knows how to
dominate from the way he handles me.
“Stop, Milana,” he growls, letting go of my throat and returning his hands to the steering wheel.
He pulls back onto the road and doesn’t look at me, speeding faster than before. I get the feeling he can’t wait to get out of this van.
My urges toward him are highly questionable. The guy drugged me for fuck’s sake, and I can’t stop thinking about him dominating me. I need to get a handle of myself before I push him too far.