Take Me Under (The Bratva Chronicles 2)

Just as she heard the zipper of his jeans being pushed down, as fear took root in every part of her body, she opened her mouth to try to scream. But then he was off of her. She instantly slid to the ground, not being able to hold herself up any longer. Her vision was shit right now, and all she could see was blurry shapes moving in swift actions in front of her. She blinked a few times, tying to see what was going on, but she was too intoxicated by whatever he’d drugged her with.

She heard Russian being spoken by several males, and a wave of relief washed over her. She started crying, but she knew she wouldn’t last long. She was already fighting unconsciousness, and it was a losing battle.

“Zvyozdochka.”

She heard Yvgeny’s voice close to her, then felt a hand on her cheek. She flinched, heard teeth grinding, and before she could ask what was going on, and if Vasilisa was okay, she felt the darkness finally claim her.

9

Yvgeny’s rage was tangible, a living entity in his body. He picked up Alexa’s body. He clenched his jaw, looking down at her face, and knew he’d spill blood tonight. He’d make sure the one that hurt her knew what real pain was.

He turned and faced his men. They held in a tight hold the fucker that had been knocked out. The asshole hung by his arms, his knees bent, his feet barely touching the ground. His head hung between his shoulders, and Yvgeny saw the blood dripping from the fucker’s face and onto the concrete.

“Take him to the basement.” Yvgeny would show this bastard what it meant to fuck with the Bratva and someone they held close. He’d laid his hands on not just a woman, but Yvgeny’s woman … the one he loved more than anything else.

A lot of fucking blood would be shed.

As he held Alexa in his arms, that volatile need for revenge grew. He knew Alexa well enough to know she hadn’t been drunk, and even if she had, that didn’t give that motherfucker the right to come anywhere near her. But what turned his blood to ice was the knowledge she had to have been drugged, because even drunk wouldn’t have had her like this.

He found himself holding her tighter. The vengeance in him ran strong. Although he knew Alexa was fully aware of the type of man he was, the truth was he didn’t know if she knew he reveled in hurting fuckers, especially the one that laid his hands on her.

He wanted Alexa in his room, on his bed, and surrounded by his things. He had a room at the club, and it was closer than his other house outside of city limits. The clubroom was necessary since he did most of his business there, and traveling to and from a residence didn’t make much sense most of the time.

“Bring me the car,” he barked out, and only a few moments later, a Mercedes was pulling into the back alley. He got in, still holding Alexa, and in no time, they were at his club in the city.

Once out of the car, Yvgeny went inside and headed through the back hallway and toward his private elevator. Once he keyed in his code for the elevator and was inside, it ascended. The doors opened soundlessly, and he stepped onto the entire upper level that he kept for himself. His room was locked off, and the rest of the area was an open living space.

He allowed no one in this part of the club. It was his private area, the space he could come and not think about the gritty shit of his life. He might live that darkness day in and day out, but for just a second he could sit up here and think, the soundproof walls and flooring allowing nothing to penetrate the silence he needed.

He went into the bedroom and set Alexa on his bed. Seeing her on his mattress, surrounded by his sheets, his scent covering her, should have made him feel possessive and territorial. It should have made him feel fucking incredible. But knowing why she was here, seeing her passed out because some fucker had drugged her, made rage burn brightly in him.

Yvgeny shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t gotten to her in time. But he’d been at Odin-Dva because of work, and to even think that what had happened to Vasilisa and Alexa could have gone further … his rage grew at the very thought. When he’d gotten a call from Vasilisa, he knew something had been wrong. He’d felt it in his gut. The phone had cut out, but not before he’d heard her say where they were. That’s when he’d checked the security monitors and seen what had been happening.