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“Pakhan?” I ask, only somewhat familiar with the word.
“Boss.”
Well, he’s certainly not the boss of me.
I gaze back at Maks, placing the figurine on the entry table. Neither of these men know me at all. If they did, they’d realize that I’m neither easy or forgiving. I have my deep-seated reasons for needing out of their world, out of the life I grew up in. I’ll stop at nothing to get what I want.
I’ve lived my entire life surrounded by men like Dimitri. Big, scary men who think they rule the universe. In reality, they are men with huge egos and small minds. I’m not afraid of him.
If Dimitri Kozlov wants to back me into a corner, then he’ll get what’s coming to him. I’ll make his every moment a living hell until he serves me with divorce papers. Then I’ll get far away from here.
CHAPTER 8
Arianna
I’m stuck here, for now. So after breakfast, I settle in front of the television and click through the available channels. I’ve poked and prodded around every room in this apartment, and Maks was right, there’s no getting out of here. Now all there is to do is pass the time and wait for an opportunity to escape.
“You can watch whatever you want, just mute the volume,” Maks says from where he’s perched at the kitchen island.
“Why?” What’s the point of watching TV without hearing it?
“Because I need to be vigilant at all times, and I can’t hear shit with all that white noise. Just turn the caption settings on.”
I do as he requests, making note that the bodyguard can’t hear over white noise. I’m sure I can use that to my advantage at some point. Besides that, Maks doesn’t seem to have any weaknesses. He has to be almost six and half feet tall, just like his employer, and equally as muscular. They’re both huge Russians. Their difference lies in their coloring. Dimitri has brown hair with green eyes, while Maks is blond with very pretty baby blues.
“I misspoke earlier,” Maks says, his gaze glued to his phone. “The Pakhan is not that bad once you get to know him. He’s just rough around the edges, and those edges run deep. You should give him a chance, since you’re stuck with him and all.”
I release a very unladylike snort. “I have no intention of getting to know him.”
“He’s a good man underneath. Loyal, kind-hearted, and fiercely protective.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same man? The one that kidnapped and then forced me to marry him?” I cross my arms, slouching on the sofa. “You know what, I don’t want to talk about him. Tell me something about yourself.”
His gaze flicks up to mine, and some emotion quickly flits through his baby blue eyes. Panic? Fear? Uncertainty, maybe? I can’t quite place it, but it strikes me as peculiar.
“What about me?” He pockets his phone, shifting in his seat.
I shrug. “Anything. Tell me about yourself, Maks, it seems we’ll be spending plenty of time together.”
“I really shouldn’t…” He frowns.
“Please?” I bat my eyelashes at him, which makes his brow furrow. “You tell me something about you, then I’ll answer any question you have about me.”
“I don’t want to know anything about you,” he says in a rush.
I arch a brow. “Oh really?”
“No offense, Miss.” A faint crimson climbs up his neck. “But we shouldn’t get too friendly. Dima’s a really possessive man, in case you haven’t already figured that out.”
“Dima?” I question.
His face flushes bright red as his eyes widen. “That’s— Forget I called him that. Please?”
I cock my head to one side, letting that nickname roll off my tongue. “Dima. Is that short for Dimitri?”
He nods. “But don’t you dare use it, or tell him I let that slip.” He sounds downright panicked. His boss really must be a tyrant.
“I won’t. You have my word.” I eye him, curious. “You two are close, aren’t you? Did you grow up together? Are you related?” Why else would he call his boss by a nickname?
