Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) by Nicole Fox (classic fiction TXT) 📗

“Don’t you fucking touch her, you bastard,” I growl.

Konstantin only laughs. “I’ll do as I please with the girl. You just worry about getting here before I finish playing with her. You’ll have the address soon.”

Without another word, the line goes dead. Feeling sick to my stomach, I throw the hot dog to the ground and hurry back into the car, turning on the ignition. My phone buzzes, and when I check it, I see that Konstantin has texted me the address of his location. It’s far out of town, but I can be there soon.

I thought she’d be safe. That’s why I tied Lucy to the bed and left her there. She was supposed to be rescued by the police and taken home. Her involvement in all of this was supposed to be minimal. She’d forget about me years down the road. Her life would go back to normal. But I’ve dragged her deeper. I’ve gotten her kidnapped. She was a sitting fucking duck because of me.

“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my fist down on the steering wheel.

It takes a few moments for me to regain my composure. I want to lash out. I want to break something. Smash it to pieces. But I can’t. I have to get to her. I have to rescue her from this shit that I put her in in the first place.

I put my car in drive and speed out of the gas station, nearly clipping a car on my way out. My brain is on autopilot again, only it’s different this time. It’s not because I’m driving aimlessly. I now have a mission. What I planned to do later in the day has been moved forward. Konstantin isn’t going to die late at night. He’ll be dead by seven o’clock.

I try not to speed. The last thing I need to deal with is a bunch of fucking cops breathing down my neck, asking why I was driving so fast. It’s enraging, this traffic, but I have to keep calm. I consider taking a shortcut that will get me to the warehouse faster, but I have to head back to my storage unit first. I can’t go in there without weapons.

My father pops into my mind.

I haven’t thought of the old coot’s anecdotes in a while, but one comes back to me as I swerve through lanes, trying to get around people taking their sweet precious time.

He told me the story of how he met my mother when I was younger. I must’ve just started going through puberty because it was during ‘the talk.’

But the story about Mom was different.

He stopped the uncomfortable jokes and looked me in the eye like a man. Like he wasn’t talking to his kid. Just another adult.

He told me that he met her at a wedding for one of his friends. He wasn’t interested in going, but she begged him to be there. The thing was a disaster. Everyone was late, it rained, and some drunk uncle of his friend’s fell face-first into her wedding cake before they could even cut it. Everything went wrong until the moment he met Mom.

She was the one good thing about the party. Soaked through in her soft pink dress, she looked so uncomfortable that Dad almost didn’t talk to her. He didn’t want to disturb her when she was already having such a shit day.

But when he did go over to her, she seemed to brighten up. She wanted to know who he was and how he was connected to the family. They spent the rest of the night talking, and for the following days of the wedding celebration, they were attached at the hip.

They started as friends.

They were close, but he didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. He wanted to take his time. As he put it, he was a dog at that time. He had no problems sleeping around. In fact, he’s probably where I got it from. He and Mom never slept together. For the longest time, they were just friends. They had inside jokes. They had secret handshakes. It was all so sweet that I remember groaning as a kid when he told me about it.

It took him a while to get to the point, but he eventually reached it.

He looked me in my eyes and told me that when I grew up and loved someone, I would have to protect her no matter what. It was my job to keep her safe. When it came to Mom, he would do anything. He would move mountains. He’d kill anyone that ever caused her harm. And I believed him. My dad was tough as nails, but he got soft every time he talked to Mom. The fact that he would do anything to keep her safe was the proof he needed. He realized that, and he married her as soon as he could. He couldn’t run the risk of her finding someone better than his sorry ass.

After they got married, they had me.

I remember thinking his story was stupid. Girls didn’t interest me. No, I was focused on school and hunting. Still too young, just barely learning what hormones could do to a boy, I didn’t get it.

I do now.

Driving through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic, I know what Dad meant.

I should’ve never let it get this far, but the truth is that I love Lucy. I fucking love her. She didn’t ask for any of this. She didn’t ask for me to kidnap her and take her to a hotel. She didn’t ask to be involved like this, where her life was on the line. I have to save her, and I don’t care how many motherfuckers I have to take down to do that.

When I finally make it to the storage unit, I drive in through the back, trying to reduce the amount of people that see me. Luckily, the unit is one of the furthest