Page 39 of Forced Mafia Bride
Casting another tired glance at the half-empty cabinet, a sad smile touched my lips. We had a lot to restock and a very limited budget. Restarting our lives in a new city would cost more than just dreams and hopes. Our savings were drastically running low. Although we planned to get a job, I knew it was more likely for Hannah to land a better opportunity faster than I would. I had no work experience,andI carried a child.
Lifting the bowl, I took the spoon to my mouth, munching on the crunchy cereal as I moved back to the tiny space we’d make-shifted to a living room if I could even call it that. The power was out—one of the bills Hannah had to settle today—so I reached for the fan on the table, and a knock came on the door.
I dropped the fan, looking toward it.
Deep down, I wanted to believe that it was Hannah, but an eerie silence followed. For our safety, we’d come up with a security phrase that we both used for identification when either of us were on the other side of the door.
Hearts and keys and locks broken.
Those were the keywords. Sue me for insisting on something rather cheesy, but we were both excited to finally be rid of the haunting Gallagher and Yezhov nightmares.
Another knock and more silence.
My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach like an anchor sinking to the depths of the ocean. On instinct, I placed the bowl beside the fan, rising to my feet with the shock thatNikolaicould be standing on the other side of that door.
Panic seized me.
He’d found me.
I clawed at my chest, struggling to fight the breath-snatching anxiety that the nightmare we thought we’d escaped had found us, and grabbed the closest weapon—the spoon from my bowl.
It was no knife, but at least I could pluck an eye with it if I had to.
My heart thundered like a hundred bass drums being struck simultaneously, and salty tears sprang to my eyes, mingling with oxygen and carbon dioxide going in and out.In and out.I could barely breathe.
Another knock on the door, more rapt and sharper than before, and my feet moved backward on their own will. Before I got any farther, the feeble wood cracked with a force so loud I thought my eardrums blew.
Splinters flew in a gust of blinding dust, and men in familiar black trooped inside, infiltrating our tiny safe space. They kicked back our sofa and cracked the center table, taking my unfinished bowl with it as they created a path for him.
I stifled a gasp and widened my eyes.
If it were Nikolai standing at the center of the room, I wouldn’t have suddenly felt the pressing urge to have a gun instead of a spoon.Ifit were Nikolai, I wouldn’t have seen the gruesome tortures of my past flash before my eyes.
Ifit were Niko, my heart wouldn’t have stopped, and I wouldn’t have whispered the very name that kept me up at night, tossing and turning and looking over my shoulder inanticipation of terror. Something wet and warm dropped on my cheek, and I wiped it away before I realized I’d shed a tear.
Fiery red hair. Angry blue eyes.
“Ronan.”
He grinned, not holding back the evil snarl or wicked glint in his eyes.Triumph. The doorway framed his broad shoulders, casting a dark silhouette that dwarfed our modest apartment, making it suffocatingly small.
He dusted a lint off his navy green jacket and stuck a hand in the pocket of his pants. Aiden took that moment to walk in. Long strides, blond hair, and a black Givenchy suit that meant business.
Our eyes met, and his softened in the splits of milliseconds. There was an immediate connection. The last time I’d seen him was months ago at Nikolai’s house, and even then, we didn’t say much to each other. We couldn’t. For an odd reason, looking at him made my heart ache immensely. He barely showed any emotion for the sake of Ronan standing beside him, but his silence spoke more than I knew he ever would.
“I bet you’re elated to see your brother once again, Rosalyn. Did you miss me?”
My eyes snapped to the brute of a man calling himself my brother.
One of his men barged in through the narrow space, dragging a struggling woman. Her hands were tied, and her mouth gagged. Black bruises sat on her eyes, and there were blood stains on her chin.
I wondered how Aiden felt, being subjected to stand there and just watch as Ronan made a mockery of his cousin.Hisblood.
The spoon slipped from my hand, clattering on the ground. “Hannah?”
I wanted to lurch forward, dig his glaring eyes with that spoon, and run away with Hannah. But my feet froze on the spot, unmoving. Not even when Ronan came closer, his cologne matching his toxicity.
“You’re a monster!” I yelled, resisting the urge to spit on his smug face and hit his chest. I didn’t want to look at Hannah, to remind myself of the physical pain I made her endure. “Let Hannah go! She didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who ran away. It was all my idea.”