Page 11 of Kidnapped Bride

But war was war, and her father had been the one to start this.

After nearly six months of pushing, he'd gotten his way, weaseling into my territory one block at a time until he'd killed six of my men and taken two of my convenience stores.

Business was down so much in that area, I would lose them and have to shut my doors soon if Markin didn't back off.

It wasn't in my best interests to push back hard.

Doing so meant getting the police involved, which would only draw attention to my less legal activities.

Markin knew that, and he was taking advantage of it, which is what pushed my hand.

Taking Kira was the only way to get his attention without causing more trouble for myself.

"You can't keep me locked up here forever!" I heard bellowing down the stairs from my bedroom where she stood banging on the door, and I looked up to see my office door open and Yakov standing there glowering at me.

"She's still at it?" I asked him, frustrated by how vocal Ms. Markin was being. Such a shame to see her so upset by this. It was nothing but an inconvenience, really.

I had no intention of hurting her—a woman that intoxicating?

She was too pure to consider defiling in such a base way.

And whether I liked it or not, we had a good rapport, good enough that she let me ravish her and begged me for it.

So harming her would only leave a bad taste in my mouth.

"For hours… But that's not why I'm here, sir." Yakov clasped his hands in front of himself, shoulders squared as he raised his jaw. "It's Vlad…"

Annoyance crawled across my forehead in deep crevices as I sat back in my desk chair and picked up my coffee to have a swig.

Now room temperature, it didn't comfort me the way whiskey would've, but being alert was better than being relaxed these days.

"Go on," I grumbled, already bracing myself for whatever bad news was coming my way again.

Yakov rolled his neck and tugged at the collar of his shirt as he said, "The Pick-a-Sack on Twelfth was hit. Vlad called me just now to fill me in. I guess one of our lieutenants was taken out or something… I think we're gonna lose that one too, Boss."

My hand curled into a fist resting on my desk as I finished the tepid coffee and set my mug down.

That was three stores now, and if he was already moving on Twelfth Street, we were in trouble.

He had some balls walking into my neighborhood like this.

"What response have we had so far?" I flexed my fingers and then ran a hand through my hair, trying to stay loose and relaxed, but these days, it seemed no matter what I did, I couldn't. I didn't take kindly to a man encroaching on my turf, and Markin was going to learn what happened to men who crossed me.

"We're scrambling, I guess." I didn’t blame Yakov for sounding uncertain. He was my personal security and liaison to the rest ofmy men. If messages needed to be delivered, it was him I trusted to do so.

"Get the car," I told him, standing up. There was no way I would let this keep going the way it was. My men were failing me, and if I had to do it all myself, I would.

"Sir, what about the girl?"

"She's locked up on the second story. You think she's gonna jump out a window?" I looked at him like he was stupid and his head dipped as he backed out of my office.

I was about sick of these complications and having to focus on putting out fires instead of running my business the way I knew how.

I grabbed my jacket and followed him out of the house to the car where Tyren was already waiting.

Both of them looked at me like I was mad leaving Kira in the home unguarded, but how much harm could she do?

There was no way out of that room and if she tried to jump, she'd break her leg.