A Surprise Baby for the Bratva: Age Gap Mafia Romance (Zolotov Bratva Book 3) by Isla Brooks

Author:Isla Brooks [Brooks, Isla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20 - Amelia

Sergei’s grip on me is rough, willing me into compliance. I look at his face, contorted with anger at being betrayed. By me.

I open my mouth, wishing to end this cruel silence between us, but he’s walking too fast and suddenly, I remember that he’s no longer the person I had begun to trust, the person I believe had started to mean something to me.

Sergei, my troublemaker yet harmless kidnapper, is a part of the Bratva. He’s not only Bratva, but he’s a Zolotov, which apparently means something in this world. I still recall the look of cold terror on Donald McCiver’s face when he heard the name Zolotov. That one look was enough to tell me I might be in deep trouble. In all my life, Donald McCiver has been the most dangerous man I know, so for him to be afraid of Sergei Zolotov means I better be prepared to run.

I’m lost in thought, and the silence between us continues. The car pulls up ahead of us and Sergei begins taking longer strides. I stumble, and Arkadi’s face grows larger as we come closer. I notice Arkadi’s confusion when he takes in the sight—me, being tugged along in heels and a cocktail dress. Sergei, looking furious.

“Did you try to run again?” Arkadi asks with incredulous disbelief as we reach his side. I shake my head and Sergei looks around the periphery, searching for monsters that don’t exist.

“Boss,” Arkadi asks Sergei under his breath, “what happened?”

“Why don’t you ask Amelia?” Sergei hisses, pushing me toward Arkadi. Confusion etches itself along Arkadi’s brow.

“My name,” I confess, looking down at my feet. “It’s Amelia.”

“Where the fuck is Gia?” Arkadi asks me, looking furious. I don’t say anything. Even though I know Arkadi and Sergei won’t harm me, I’m not giving away her location. I’ll try to protect her to my last breath, if I have to. I shrug and shake my head.

Sergei looks at me furiously and grabs my arm again. He leads me to the passenger seat of the car, opens it, and puts me in. “Arkadi,” he says over his shoulder, “I will drive us home. You take the driver and bring him in one of the convoy cars. I have lots of questions that I need answers to and Amelia here is damn well going to answer each one.”

Sergei means business, in the tone of his voice, the brisk, almost aggressive force in his motions. He leans over and places the seat belt securely across my body, letting it snap back across my torso once done. I wince, and I notice him stop for a brief second. On realizing I’m in no real pain, he moves back, slams the door shut behind him, and walks over to the driver’s seat.

Oh dear, I’m in real trouble.

***

My heart hammers in my chest as I sit in the passenger seat of Sergei’s car, my legs pressed tightly together and fingers curled into my palms. My eyes flicker between the road ahead and the profile of the man beside me—angry, silent, and brooding.

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