Page 44 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

I part my lips in shock. The old apartment? The one I’m banned from? It must be serious if she’s willing to risk the landlord’s ire, or maybe she’s confident that he’ll never find out about it. I chew my lip as I stare at the message, going over my options here.

Because there are no guards on the door, I could get out. Tell her to call me a cab, then I’ll meet it outside the mansion, meet up with her, and get back before Ilya even notices I’m gone. Sure, it’s a fiction I’m spinning to myself, the idea that he will not find out, but...

But if I tell Ilya, I know he will try to stop me. Keep me here, where he knows I’m safe. Deny me whatever knowledge Becky might have managed to get her hands on. She sounds desperate, that’s for sure, but what could be so urgent that she needs to see me right now?

My mind reels with possible answers. Because I’m lying to myself if I don’t believe Ilya isn’t involved in some seriously dark shit. I might have been able to ignore it for a while, pretend that he’s nothing more than the man I see before me when we are together, but there’s something else to him, too. A side to him that’s dangerous, violent, controlling. A side that closed off my world entirely, leaving me no choice but to give myself over to him. And the thought of that, even now, is enough to send a sickening shiver down my spine.

I could call him right now. Get this out into the open before it turns into something I can’t extricate myself from. My head feels overstuffed, the answers not making themselves clear to me, even as I silently plead for them to.

I could go to Becky now, get out of here, get this done, and return before anyone knows I am gone.

Why the fuck am I overthinking this so much? Isn’t this what I wanted—my freedom? A chance to do things my way, no matter how difficult or messy they turned out to be?

I draw in a deep breath, looking to the ceiling to ground myself. An hour. An hour at most. That’s as long as I’ll be out of this place, and then I’ll come back and be sitting pretty by the time Ilya comes to check on me.

But I have to move now if I want to get out of here. Because I don’t know how long it will be before those men return, and I can’t risk getting stuck here.

I rush for the door, firing off a text to Becky to call me a cab and that I will be there as soon as I can. I can feel the thrum of blood in my veins, part of me screaming at me to stop this, turn around, give up before I make a mistake that I will not be able to remedy.

But my feet carry me towards the kitchen, where I know there’s a back door that will lead to the outside world. I dive out before I can doubt this decision for another instant. Fresh air fills my lungs, and I try my best to pull myself back down to earth, my entire body seized with the terror of being caught and what might happen if I am.

But I am more afraid of dealing with Ilya if there is something about him that I need to know. I have no clue how Becky was the one to find it out, but she’s been my friend for years, and I know she wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.

That’s what I have to believe, anyway.

Shooting another look around, I ensure the coast is clear before I sprint down the garden towards the gate that leads to the road beyond. Ilya must have his men gathered somewhere, because I can’t see any guards keeping watch. Whatever is going on, Ilya is obviously taking it with the utmost seriousness, and maybe I should start acting the same way myself.

Well, I am taking it seriously that my best friend came to me with a concern that sounds like it’s life-or-death. As I dart through the gate and scan the road beyond, I promise myself that I’ll be back soon. In just an hour, I will know everything Becky does, and I will be able to make whatever decision I need to with a little more clarity.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I see the cab pulling around the corner and lift a hand to flag it down.

Chapter 24

Rose

"Right here is fine, thanks," I tell the cab driver, who seems all too happy to bring his car to a screeching halt and let me out. I wonder if it has anything to do with where he just picked me up from; after all, he can’t be ignorant of the reputation surrounding Ilya’s home, and he likely wants as little to do with anyone fleeing that place as humanly possible.

I hurry to the door of my old apartment building, looking around furtively to make sure I’m not being watched by some nosy neighbor in the street. I don’t intend to let anyone catch me in the act. I still don’t know what I’m doing here, but getting caught and reported back to Ilya is sure as hell not on my bingo card today.

I tap the buzzer a few times, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I wait for Becky to answer. A second later, her voice comes down the intercom, and as fuzzy as it is, I can instantly tell that there’s something wrong.

"Rose? Is that you?”

"Yeah, it’s me," I reply. "What’s going on? Can you let me in?"

The door buzzes open, and I hurry up the stairs, taking them two at a time as I head for our old apartment. I don’t even know what she’s doing meeting me here, given that she told me she moved out the other week. Surely she can’t have moved back, and if she has, there has to be a good reason for it.

I brush those thoughts aside once I reach the door and find Becky standing there before me. My face brightens as soon as I lay eyes on her. But then, I see who is standing just behind her, and my expression falters just as quickly.

Sergei.

There’s no mistaking it. It’s him. But what the fuck is he doing here? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand why he’d be at my old apartment, and with Becky. What he would be doing here that would have made her reach out to me without even mentioning his presence.

But if he is here... then he must have been the one who got her to call me.

My head whips down, and I see that he has a gun pressed against her back, the barrel digging into her like a lion’s open jaw. My stomach drops. No. Not Becky. Not her as part of all of this, too...

"I’m sorry," she whispers to me, her eyes brimming with tears. "I didn’t know what else to do. He came to my apartment, and he told me to call you, and I just..."