The Bratva's Bride (Wicked Doms 2)

I go back out to meet him and find he’s several paces down the hallway, talking on his phone.

His phone.

I don’t need to find another one. All I have to do is somehow have him open his… find the password or something similar… and I could use it to inquire about Calina. It’s risky, though.

I groan inwardly. Too fucking risky.

He catches my eye and signals for me to come to him. And as I do, I notice a door ajar. In the room to my left is a large office. On the desk lies a phone.

My heartbeat quickens with excitement. I just need to find a way back here. A spontaneous thought occurs to me and when he’s turned away, I quickly unclasp one of my earrings and discreetly drop it on the carpet by the door.

Back in the dining room, our food is served, and I obediently sit while Demyan feeds me. It’s odd being fed like a small child, but I have to be on my best behavior, so he doesn’t even suspect what I’m going to do go behind his back. I nod and smile and act every bit the compliant slave girl he wants me to be. I wait until he’s had two mixed drinks when I turn to him, smiling, and put my hand up to my ear.

“Oh,” I say, with feigned surprise. “I must’ve dropped my earring at some point.”

He’s listening to what someone is saying at the far end of the table, so he’s only half listening to me when I speak. “May I look quickly in the hall by the restroom to see if I dropped it there?”

A shadow crosses his face, and my heart races. He’s not going to let me. Why would he? He wants me under his watchful eye. So it surprises me when he gives me a quick nod. “Go,” he says. “And be quick about it.” I get to my feet when his eyes narrow on me. “Don’t make me come fetch you, woman.”

My mind immediately goes to his closet full of contraptions suitable for punishment. I’m not sure if the acceleration of my heart is from fear or excitement. Maybe both.

I walk with my head down to the hallway, listening for signs that anyone’s following me, but I’m alone. I’m surprised he’s allowed this, so quickly into our arrangement. I see my earring still outside the door, so I quickly bend to pick it up. With my pulse hammering so loudly in my ears I feel faint, I gently shut the door behind me. I’m trembling. This is my chance.

I turn to the desk and run as quickly as I can, reaching for the phone. I just need the quickest of calls to make sure she’s alright. Hands trembling, I lift the phone, only to find there’s no dial tone. In a panic, I stare at the receiver. It’s connected to nothing.

A sob rises in my throat. It’s just for show. Of course they don’t have a regular office phone in here. They have encrypted cell phones, for crying out loud. I replace the receiver and close my eyes when the need to cry washes over me so powerfully my body trembles with the onslaught of emotion. I steady myself at the desk. If I go back now, and he sees me like this, he’ll know something’s wrong.

And I need to go back now.

I won’t give up, though. I’m not going to give up until I make the call that I need to.

I go back to the office door and open it slowly. I step into the hall, gingerly pulling the office door closed behind me when his deep voice scares the life out of me.

“Find your earring?”

Demyan stands by the door, his eyes narrowed on me. He knows this was no innocent mission. The gig is up.

“I did,” I say with forced cheerfulness, pointing to my ear. I plaster a fake smile on my face. “See?”

Nodding, he stalks closer to me, closing the distance in one stride.

I scream when he wrenches my head back, his fist tangled in my hair. “Did I give you permission to enter the office?” he growls in my ear.

“No, sir,” I whisper.

“Did I give you permission to touch that phone?” His voice is taut with control, but underneath it lies a threat that makes me quake.

“No, sir,” I whisper.

“And what, little kitten,” does he growl with his mouth up to my ear now. “Did I say would happen if you were disobedient?”

My stomach tightens with dread and anticipation. “You’d punish me, sir.”

There are no more words as he drags me, my hair still firmly in his grasp, toward the hallway. I’m only dimly aware of what he does, as the pain from him pulling my hair makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. He says nothing to me before he lifts his phone and growls into the receiver in Russian, likely telling his men he’s leaving to deal with his errant slave girl.