The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 208

Vivian

In the stunned silence that followed the thunderous knocking, I watched Devan and Dwayne's expressions shift from rage to something that looked suspiciously like fear. The knife remained suspended above me, its blade catching the harsh fluorescent light, and terror washed over me again in waves.

*Please,* I prayed silently, *let whoever's out there be some kind of miracle.*

Devan jerked his head toward one of his men, who cautiously approached the door.

"Who's there?" the enforcer called out nervously.

A voice answered from the other side—deep, magnetic, with an edge that suggested its owner wasn't someone to be trifled with.

"Open up! We've got a situation. Michael, Tony, Jake—we need to move. Now!"

The effect on Devan's men was immediate and dramatic. Their faces went pale as they recognized their names being called. Without waiting for permission, they rushed to unlock the door.

The man who entered was unlike anyone I'd ever seen. Tall and lean, with flame-red hair that fell to his shoulders and a jagged scar running from his left temple to his jaw. Everything about him screamed danger—from his predatory smile to the casual way he surveyed the room like he owned it.

"Dmitri Petrov," Devan snarled, "what the hell kind of emergency could possibly justify interrupting our business? I paid you good money, and this job isn't finished until I say it's finished!" He waved the knife in my direction threateningly.

My scalp prickled with renewed terror, but something about Dmitri's presence sparked an irrational flicker of hope.

Dmitri's laugh was low and dismissive. "Your pocket change barely covered the kidnapping fee. That's it." His gaze swept over my disheveled state with obvious distaste. "Could you people try to maintain some basic standards? Kidnapping is one thing, but this..." He gestured at my condition with disgust. "Even criminals should have limits."

His men immediately looked ashamed, studying their shoes like scolded children.

"Shut up!" Devan exploded. "Our contract isn't finished! They still take orders from me!"

Dmitri casually pulled out a sleek black handgun, examining it with the mild interest of someone checking the time. "Actually, the contract terminated about five minutes ago when Victor Kozlov and his entire crew got within three blocks of this location. They'll find this place in maybe five minutes, and he's leading the search personally."

The sight of the weapon sent both Devan and Dwayne scrambling backward. Their loyal enforcers immediately shifted allegiance, moving to stand behind Dmitri like he was their new pack leader.

"When clients fail to disclose that they're going up against the Kozlov family," Dmitri continued conversationally, "it constitutes a breach of contract. That kind of risk requires full disclosure and hazard pay."

Devan forced a placating smile. "Of course, you're absolutely right. Next time I'll provide complete background information and appropriate compensation." His expression darkened. "Still, I need to finish dealing with this traitor before I leave."

He raised the knife again, and I instinctively tried to shrink away from the blade, my heart hammering against my ribs.

But before Devan could strike, Dmitri moved with liquid grace, his hand shooting out to knock the weapon from Devan's grip. The knife clattered across the concrete floor, spinning away into the shadows.

I stared at him in stunned confusion as he turned those piercing green eyes on me.

"That's enough," Dmitri said, his voice carrying quiet authority. "Murder wasn't included in our original agreement. Your money doesn't buy you the right to kill her." He looked back at Devan with something like pity. "And I'd suggest you disappear quickly. Are you really eager to explain yourself to Victor Kozlov face-to-face?"

Devan's face twisted with frustration. "Fuck!" He grabbed Dwayne's arm roughly. "We're leaving. Now."

As they rushed toward the exit, Devan's abandoned enforcers looked uncertainly at their new boss.

"Boss, shouldn't we get out of here too?" one of them asked nervously.

Dmitri smiled—a expression that was equal parts charming and dangerous. Instead of answering, he picked up the discarded knife and walked over to where I hung suspended.

With swift, efficient movements, he cut through the ropes binding my wrists. My arms dropped like dead weights, and my legs immediately gave out. I would have collapsed to the floor if Dmitri hadn't caught me, his strong hands steadying me as he guided me to the chair Devan had vacated.

He was already turning to leave when I surprised myself by reaching out and grabbing his hand. The contact sent an unexpected jolt of electricity through me.

Dmitri didn't seem startled by my touch. He simply looked back at me with those unsettling green eyes.

"If you're wondering whether you're still in danger," he said calmly, "as long as you stay in this room, Victor's people will find you in a few minutes and take you somewhere safe."

I nodded weakly and slowly released his hand, but I couldn't stop myself from asking the question burning in my throat.

"Why did you save me?"

Dmitri's laugh was genuinely amused. "Save you? Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. From start to finish, this was purely about money. The contract covered kidnapping, not torture or murder. Your life was never part of the transaction."

A chill ran down my spine as the full implications of his words sank in.

He was already walking toward the door when he paused and glanced back at me over his shoulder. "Keep that pretty little life of yours intact. Next time, I hope no one's willing to pay for it."

And with that cryptic farewell, Dmitri Petrov vanished into the night, leaving me alone with my racing heart and the inexplicable feeling that I'd just encountered someone who would change everything.