Page 20 of Forced & Obsessed By the Bratva King
I’m surprised I’m not jumping on him and scratching out his eyes like a feral cat. Turns out all my mother’s lectures on anger management worked, after all. She’d be real proud if she were here.
Leonid prowls toward me, his slow strides resembling those of a predator inching closer to its prey before it attacks. His over six-foot frame towers over mine, and his lips twitch with a dangerous smile that makes my heart race.
I take a step back, and then another, until I’m pressed against the counter.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you go, ptichka.”
“Why?” My voices comes out strangled.
“Because you saw something you shouldn’t have.” He presses his palms to the wall above me, leaning in so close I can smell the scent of his cedar cologne mixed with cigar smoke and whiskey.
It’s intoxicating.
He’sintoxicating.
I’m suddenly wondering what his lips would taste like and how his hands would feel wrapped around my waist. I’ve officially lost it.
“I saw nothing,” I say sharply. “I don’t care what you and those minions of yours do, but don’t expect me to sit around like a piece of furniture while you keep me here against my will.”
He lifts a brow. “Or?”
“Or…” I trail off and think. Surely I’ll try to escape at some point, but he thinks there’s no way I could get out of this room, so that’s not a good threat. “Or I’ll kill you.”
He chuckles sardonically. The sound is deep and throaty. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“I don’t know.” I let out a loud exhale, rasping for breath. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m angry or because my body suddenly feels too sensitive in front of him. “Maybe you’ll keep your gun where I can grab it someday.”
He watches me intently, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Ever shot a gun before, ptichka?”
I shake my head. “For you, I’m willing to try.”
He presses two rough, warm fingers to my chin and tilts my head up. His eyes meet mine, and I fight the urge to look away. “I’d love to see that happen.”
The calmness in his voice only agitates me even more. “Oh, trust me, it will. Loser. I hope you die in your sleep tonight.”
His brushes my lips with his thumb. “I won’t die that easily. And if I die, you’re coming with me.”
“In your dreams,” I snarl.
I expect him to get angry and punch the wall or something, but he remains calm, as if my words barely mean anything to him. I mean, I prefer it that way, but misery loves company, and since I’m upset, I don’t want his arrogant ass walking away like he owns the world.
Maybe he does. I don’t give a shit.
“Tell me, ptichka. Do you talk to everyone the way you talk to me?”
“Well, it’s not every day some crazy dude kidnaps me and locks me up in his basement. If you don’t let me go, I’ll escape, call the cops, and make sure you’re arrested.”
He smiles.
It’s not a smirk or wicked grin. His lips actually curl into a full smile and his eyes are filled with glee, as if he genuinely finds me funny.
“You can’t escape me, ptichka,” he says quietly, like it’s the clearest truth in the world. “You’re mine, and no one can save you from me.”
The possessiveness in his voice should make me run screaming. Instead, it sends a restless shiver through my chest, something dark and thrilling tightening under my ribs at the thought of being wanted with that kind of ruthless intensity, especially by a man who everyone fears.
A man like Leonid.
But as heat unfurls in my stomach, I remind myself that he’s not attracted to me. He sees me as nothing more than a prisoner—a rat trapped in a rusty cage that he can dispose of whenever he wants.
