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“Nothing, baby.” His deep voice rumbled between us and soothed something deep inside me. “It’s okay to be scared.”
He pulled me against him again and I let him. His arms were tight around my waist and I inhaled the scent of his skin. I was wiping the slate clean, letting his closeness strip everything away.
We sat like that until my tears stopped and my breathing evened. The exhaustion in my body fought hard and lulled me out of consciousness right there on his lap. The last thing I remembered was Yuri laying me back down and feeling the dip in the bed disappear.
~
When I woke again, the IV was out of my arm and there was sunlight streaming through the skylight in the bathroom. I stretched against the sheets and pushed them aside to see just how my body felt and was pleasantly surprised. Aside from the debilitating hunger pains, I felt like a new person. The door opened just as I stood and I sucked in a breath, my hand clasping my chest at the uptick in my heartbeat. Yuri ducked his head inside, the smell of something delicious wafting through the small crack in the door, momentarily breaking my focus.
“Hungry?” his eyebrow quirked.
“Starving.”
He nodded his head for me to follow, but I stayed put. My feet were cemented to the floor. As much as I wanted to follow him in the hopes of sitting down to a five-course meal, I wasn’t ready to swallow my pride and do exactly as I was told. I didn’t even want to think about the way I had cried in his arms like a damsel in distress earlier. Was that earlier? Or yesterday?
Since then, Yuri had showered and dressed, looking more like his murderous self. Maybe it had been days.
He sighed, stomping toward me and reaching for my arm to pull me along behind him.
“This is your room?” I dared to ask as we rounded the corner.
“Yes.”
Where I expected to find another gray concrete prison devoid of emotion and life, a hallway extended in front of us with numerous doors on each side. I crept along beside him, my shoulders tense, afraid that at any second one of the doors would burst open like a haunted house. My bare feet padded across the hardwood floor that was identical to the wood of his headboard, and the walls were painted a mute yellow. It reminded me of a sunrise— not at all how I had imagined the home of the cartel.
“Is this your house?” I whispered, feeling him tug at my arm.
At the end of the corridor, the ceiling rose like a cathedral and we entered a great room, the scent of food growing stronger. My eyes wandered along the windows that lined the towering walls. The room was bright and open, everything I didn’t expect after seeing the dungeon. Each piece of furniture looked like it had been professionally placed in its spot, complimenting each other until the room was pulled together perfectly.
“The kitchen’s this way.” His grip tightened and I skipped behind him as my stomach wailed.
I heard a woman’s voice just before we passed an art wall and I saw the beginning of the dark, cherry wood cabinets. The kitchen was massive, extending longer than my mother’s entire house. My eyes wandered until they landed on a woman staring straight at me, her brows furrowed and her hands on her hips.
She was stunning, shockingly so, and my fingers tugged at the hem of Yuri’s too large shirt.
“Who’s this?” Her voice was melodic to match her appearance. Her dark brown hair was long with loose curls passing well below her shoulders. She looked my age— but her grace was unlike anything I’d seen before. She was one of those girls that seemed flawlessly pretty, effortless almost. My cheeks flared as I put two and two together— a gross feeling resembling jealousy coursing through my veins. This must be his wife.
“This,” he let go of my arm, “is Darya.” I was all too aware of the change, the cool air embracing the skin where his fingers were.
Her eyes narrowed, studying my captor. “Why is she here?” She slapped a towel down onto the counter and popped a hip out, her eyes never leaving Yuri’s.
I took a ragged breath, the tension in the room palpable. How was it possible that during my own kidnapping, while being dragged against my will through his house, I would be made to feel like a home-wrecker? I took a step back and was about to excuse myself, fully ready to make a run for it despite the consequences, when Yuri stopped me. “She’s my guest.”
She cocked her head, eyeing me carefully while I squirmed in my own skin.
“Darya,” Yuri’s hand snaked to the small of my back, drawing my full attention back to the man beside me, “this is my sister, Lucia.”
When I let out a slow breath, my shoulders dropping at his words, his lips quirked up in a smirk.
“No way! It’s nice to meet you,” she squealed. She pulled me in for a quick hug before slapping her brother on the upper arm. “It’s about time you brought home a ‘guest’.” Lucia winked at me as she put the last word in air quotes. Her smile was contagious and it was only then that I noticed the similarity in their eyes. Both dark and intense but highly expressive.
He rolled his eyes and pushed me forward gently, his hand still grazing the small of my back. In the middle of the kitchen was a massive island— so large I wondered how someone might clean the middle of it without having to climb on top. The quartz countertops sparkled below the windows leading to the perfectly manicured backyard. Yuri led us around the island and then pulled out one of the stools, which I took without question. My stomach was too empty to fight that battle.
My hand pressed against the hollow in my belly while Yuri clattered around the kitchen. Not even sparing a moment of thought, he ripped open cabinets and amassed all kinds of ingredients from the fridge, piling them up next to the stove. The longer I watched, the stranger I felt— as if Yuri was pulling back the curtain. Lucia leaned against the opposite counter, her eyes bouncing between the two of us. When she crossed her arms and dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, hardly containing a smile, my cheeks stained red. I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“So…do tell brother,” she winked at me. He never once turned his attention toward her, his focus on whatever dish he was making. “Is this my new sister?”
My mouth dropped open.
