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Josie Marks
Mina Snowe
* * *
I was pretty sure I’d be dead in five minutes.
Up to now, I’d lived in a gilded cage. I did not know anything about murder. But this cage I was in now, at this moment—there was no sheltering from this.
The yacht swayed on the open sea and nausea hit me hard. In the kind of chill that cut through bones, I was having trouble breathing. Disoriented, I tried to focus on my parents, who also were both on their knees—my mother sobbed while my father held her in a protective embrace. The picture of family harmony, were it not for the three men pointing their guns at us with stony expressions on their faces. These were the kind of men who only dealt with literal deaths.
I trembled as my fear skyrocketed.
We were prisoners. Taken.
Why?
The wind blew in from the south, carrying with it a stark warning.
Everything had happened so fast. These men before us had raided our house that night, barricading through the main entrance. I barely had time to move. Someone grabbed me and pulled a cover over my head, muffling my screams and swathing me in darkness.
As they dragged us away from our home, the intruders spoke in a foreign language. I recognized it as Russian, the language of my people. My parents never wanted me to learn it—they simply wanted me to focus on my English.
I felt numb the whole trip over here, until they pulled the covering off my head.
My father kept talking, trying to get answers, a reaction. Anything. But still, they never said a word. Nothing surrounded us but water. We were isolated, in unknown territory.
Several moments later, a man appeared on deck. Tall, formidable. Like a dark mythological god had decided to pay us a visit. But there was no doubt he owned this yacht, and these were his men.
My heart started to race. I remembered meeting him twice before, although I didn’t know much about him. A show-stopping six foot five or so, his face wasn’t one I would forget. He reminded me of a fallen angel with a pile of dark secrets under his invisible wings. His tanned skin, touched by the sun, stretched over thick veins on his forearms, going all the way up under the rolled sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
Each time he raked his gaze over me, mouth set in a hard line, terror took residence of every corner of my soul. What had I done to this man? What had my parents done? This had to be a mistake.
“Welcome to my humble yacht, Marinka, Vlad, and Marta Sevchenko.” Sebastian Dimitrei smiled at us, a gun in his right hand.
Tall and broad, he wore a shiny black suit that fit perfectly over his muscular body. His eyes were dark and stormy, his hair curly, and when he locked his gaze with mine, the world stopped. A cold shiver crawled up my spine at his intense perusal. This was the kind of man who figured things out for himself. He wouldn’t ask questions, but he’d get the answers by hook or by crook.
Over here, in this space, this man made the rules. He gave the orders, and others obeyed.
“Sebastian, please … I’m begging you. This is a mistake. We had nothing to do with Russina’s death. At least, spare my wife,” my father pleaded, his voice trembling. This was strange, because I had never seen him beg. Ever. Nor did fear tinge his expression in all the years I’d been on this earth.
My knees were hurting and my whole body felt numb.
Sebastian’s expression darkened and his jaw tightened. Without warning, he loaded his gun and shot my father in the leg. Blood pooled on the floor.
I screamed and tried to crawl to my dad, but the guy behind me caught me by the neck and pulled me back.
My father’s face paled as he moaned and clasped his leg with bloodied fingers.
“Don’t youeversay her name. And you’re a fool if you think I don’t know what you have done, Vlad.” He paused for a brief moment, a shadow of a smile passing through his face. “I brought all your family here because I wanted you to see how I was going to hurt the people you care about the most.”
“Please!” I cut in, surprised I’d found my tongue. “This is a huge misunderstanding. My parents have done nothing wrong.”
Sebastian didn’t take his gaze off my father. His eyes shone with hatred and disappointment.
