24. Danika
DANIKA
My shoulder slams into something hard, a doorframe maybe, and then I'm falling. The back of my head hits the edge of the leather seat, and white-hot pain explodes through me I bite down on the gag, tasting cotton and blood.
Hands shove me forward, forcing me face-down into the seat.
The door slams shut behind me, and after a few moments, an engine roars to life, and we start moving.
The hood over my head is suffocating. Every breath I take feels too shallow, too hot. The fabric clings to my nose with each inhale, and I have to force myself not to panic, not to thrash.
The car accelerates sharply, throwing me backward against the seat. I'm lying on my side now, my wrists bound behind me.
My mind is racing, cataloging information, trying to orient myself.
We're moving fast. The tires are against smooth pavement, so we're still in the city.
After some time, we turn, and the noise from the tires gets sharper. I feel the incline in the way my body slides slightly backward.
Where are they taking me?
I twist my wrists. They pulled it tight, and the edges of the plastic dig into my skin hard enough that I can already feel my fingers starting to tingle.
Fuck.
I stop struggling and force myself to lie still.
The car hits a pothole, and my head slams into the back of the seat as a thought rushes into my brain.
This is what you get for leaving him.
I swallow hard, the gag making it difficult, and force myself to focus.
The men in the front seats are talking in Russian.
Their voices are low and casual. They don't seem to care that I can hear them. They assume I'm as good as dead; maybe they're right.
"...little betrayer," one of them says, and he laughs. "Dimitri's going to make an example of her."
"Good," the other one replies. "Should've thought twice before spreading her legs for a Romanian."
Rage runs through me, but there's nothing I can do or say.
"Doesn't matter now," the first guard says. "The hit squad at the hotel took care of him. Probably bleeding out on the floor as we speak."
The world stops.
My heart stops.
Everything stops.
No.
"One less Ionescu to worry about. Dimitri will probably dump them both in the sea when he's done with her."
They laugh again, and the sound echoes in my skull, drowning out everything else.
They got Victor.
They killed him.
The panic hits me like a wave, and I can't breathe. The hood presses tighter against my face, the gag chokes me, and I can't get enough air.
No. No.
I try to logic my way out of it, try to force myself to think rationally.
Victor is smart. He's capable. He's survived worse than a hotel ambush. He would've anticipated the threat. He would've...
But the guards sound so certain.
My chest tightens, and my eyes sting beneath the hood.
I blink hard, forcing the tears back, but the image won't leave my mind.
Victor, lying on the floor of that hotel suite. Blood pooling beneath him. His dark eyes empty, staring at nothing.
No.
I can't let myself believe it.
I won't.
He probably heard the guards coming before they even knocked. He probably slipped out a window, disappeared into the streets, and he's already on a plane back to Romania.
He's fine. He has to be fine.
But the thought that he might not be, that he might actually be dead, sends a wave of dread over my entire body.
It's worse than the fear of my own death.
Shit.
All my training, my discipline, my carefully constructed walls, gone. Because this isn't about Ivan. This isn't about the Bratva. This is about Victor.
The realization crashes over me like a physical blow, and I can't fight it anymore.
I care about him.
More than I care about completing the mission, about pleasing Ivan, about proving my loyalty to the Bratva.
I care about Victor surviving more than I care about my own life.
The thought is terrifying.
I've never allowed myself to feel this way about anyone. I've never allowed myself to need anyone. I've spent my entire life alone, by choice, because needing someone makes you weak.
And now, lying in the back of this SUV, bound and blindfolded and at the mercy of men who want to kill me, I finally understand what weakness feels like.
It feels like this.
Like the crushing weight of realizing that the person you care about might be dead, and you'll never get to tell them that they mattered.
Please don't be dead.
I hate how desperate the thought sounds, even in my own head.
I hate that I'm lying here, hoping, praying, begging the universe for something I know I don't deserve.
Victor should've killed me when he had the chance. He should've put a bullet in my head the moment he saw me again.
Instead, he danced with me. He kissed me. He trusted me enough to let me into that penthouse, to let me see him vulnerable.
And I left him.
I'm so stupid.
The car slows, and I feel the tires crunch over gravel. We're turning onto a driveway, steep, judging by the angle of my body.
Heavy gates groan open somewhere ahead.
The guards in the front seats stop talking.
I lie perfectly still, trying to listen, trying to map out where we are. But all I can hear is the engine, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires, and the pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears.
We're almost there.
Wherever "there" is.
The logical side of my brain knows what's coming. Dimitri will take me somewhere private, somewhere soundproofed. He'll tie me to a chair, and he'll ask me where the data is. He'll start with threats, then move to pain, and he won't stop until I give him what he wants.
And even if I do, he'll kill me anyway.
Because I betrayed him. Because I stole from him. Because I know too much. And the funny thing is, I haven't even seen what's on the damn drive.
Ivan doesn't know I'm in trouble. I didn't exactly have time to call him before they grabbed me.
And Victor...
Even if he's alive and somehow survived the ambush, he has no reason to come for me.
I stole from him. I left him. I gave him every reason to hate me.
Why would he risk his life to save me?
The answer is simple.
He wouldn't.
No one is coming to save me.
The car comes to a full stop, and I hear the doors open.
A hand grabs my arm, hauling me upright.
I don't fight.
What's the point?
The only thing left for me to do is pray Dimitri ends all this quickly.