Page 69 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

Viktor’s reassurance slammed into my chest. I’d run right into this.

I fought the hands holding me back, fought with everything I had, which turned out to be not enough.

These men had done this before.

They moved with my struggling instead of letting go. One held my legs.

Another gripped my arms.

The hand on my arm tightened and something flashed in my peripheral.

A needle. My eyes went wide even as my muffled scream turned shrewish. Nothing mattered. They had me locked down, and the needle jabbed into my neck. I lost feeling in my legs first, then my arms. The world went sideways, my vision blurring. No.

I slumped to the side, my thoughts fuzzy at the edges, then doing dark altogether.

My baby. I had to protect my baby.

My body ached, and my mouth tasted like I’d drank pond water. I should know, I’d done it once on a dare from my brother.

I licked my cracked lips and tried to lift my head. Nope. It weighed a million pounds. I blinked, staring at the concrete floor under my feet. My tied up feet.

Wait. What happened? I twisted my hands, trying to pull them up to rub my eyes. Nope. Couldn’t do that either.

A few blinks brought more of the world into view, as far as I could see without moving my head. Concrete floor. Chair legs. And on the edge of my vision, a wall. I twisted my wrists again. Definitely tied up.

I pulled on the restraints again. My neck ached where the needle had gone in. I needed a plan to get out of here.

Leo would notice. Viktor would find me. Misha would save me.

They would come for me. Leo’s warning about their having enemies became my reality.

A tingling sensation spread up my arms and into my neck. I lifted my head, and it fell all the way back until I was staring at the ceiling. More concrete. Nice.

The door opened, and a man walked in.

He strolled like he had all the time in the world, his eyes cold and hard. He reminded me of every villain in every scary movie I’d ever watched, and my pulse reacted appropriately.

He undid the buttons on his jacket and swept it to either side of his hips, revealing the same toned physique my men sported.

He was older, with gray at his temples and lines fanning from his eyes. He set his hands on his hips and stared down at me. “Miss Stirling.” His accent was punctuated and deeply Russian. “I apologize for the accommodations.”

I cocked my head to the side. Did I let my sass go or hold it in? A shudder rippled down my spine. Definitely hold it.

“My name is Anton Krachenko. I expect you understand what that means since you are so close to Leonid.” He spat the name at me, his lips curling.

Anton? I knew that name. This was the man Leo asked me about. But… but it had all been roleplaying. I’d shown up and removed my dress and then they’d started asking me questions like it was in interrogation. All make-believe.

Then why was a very large, very angry Russian staring me down?

This was not playacting. This was real.

Everything they’d ever half-told me rearranged itself in a breath. The enemies they mentioned, along with the surveillance, made sense now.

I’d accepted all of it because I trusted them, and I still trusted them, but the edges were fraying.

I’d been kidnapped because of them.

My baby was at risk because of them.