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Truth is, I don’t need the money from Aaron, but if he wants to join me, he needs to prove himself. And if he doesn’t—as I guess will be the case—he’ll lose a finger and I’ll throw him out.
Men never fucking fail to surprise me.
CHAPTER6
SLOANE
It’s been two days. Two whole fucking days I’ve been locked in this room. The minute I got back here he sent someone to lock the door. I banged my fists against the solid wood for a while before tiring myself out.
I’m used to being kept in a room for days on end after all—the only difference is I have no choice but to stay in this room. Back home, my door’s never locked. My family trust me to listen to them.
Mikhail has no reason to trust me, but that doesn’t make me like this any more.
I’ve tried to come up with a plan to get out of here, but my ideas are worth nothing, and neither is my effort. I’m just worried about my family. Mikhail threatened them as if their lives were worth less than the gum on the bottom of his shoe, which only confirms my worries: he has no idea what his father planned.
If Mikhail isn’t aware—and I’m sure he isn’t—then I may as well be dead. There will be no mercy shown, no communication, and no empathy. He breathes in anger and breathes out insults.
I’m not meant to be his nemesis. If I knew what his issue was, I could tell him what he wants to hear and maybe he’d let me go. But I don’t know anything. I’m clueless, and that’s exactly what he wants.
Killing him won’t work. He can predict my moves from a mile off, and my strength is nothing compared to his. I think I just need to lie low, not cause any issues. I need to make it look like I have no problem being here. I have no idea how long I’ll be stuck here for, so I may as well live up to my full potential.
Pushing myself up, I stare ahead of me. While I may be a hostage, I have to admit the accommodations could be worse. I could be locked in a cold, dirty cell with metal chains around my legs. Instead, I’m in a room that’s rather modern. The large white bed faces the wall of windows with a view I’ll never tire of. I’ve never seen the ocean before now—only in movies, but they don’t do this view justice. Each morning I’m woken up by the comfort of the warm sun against my skin and the chants of seagulls. The sun alone beats the dark, colorless room I have at home.
The best part about this room is the button on the nightstand that controls the windows. I can have them open at night and listen to the water crash against the boat. I’ve never slept better. Ironic, considering I’m being held hostage.
With how fancy the yacht is, I can only wonder if he bought it just to trap me here. If that’s the case, I’ve never felt more exceptional in my entire life.
But what will he do with me when he doesn’t need me anymore? Kill me?
I’m sure kidnapping is one of his favorite daily activities. I bet if I were to look at his hands, I’d see dried blood under his nails.
I shake my head to rid the negative thoughts and grab the remote from the nightstand. When I press the power button to turn on the TV, however, the screen remains black. Turning the remote over, I open the back and laugh. Of course he’d take out the batteries.
Asshole.
Letting out a harsh breath, I turn to the bedroom door as I hear it unlock. I watch the knob closely as the seconds pass and yet no one steps through. I grow impatient and scoot out of the bed. My hand touches the cold handle, opening it only to see no one on the other side.
Why would they finally give me the option to leave and not tell me?
The second I step out of the room, my hair blows in the strong current of the wind. I know we’re not moving because I can’t hear the hum of the engine. The wind must be strong because there’s nothing blocking its path. No mountains, skyscrapers, or trees—just the lonely, open ocean.
I’ve only been out of my room once, and at the time I couldn’t admire anything about the ship because I was nervous about seeing Mikhail.
My hand glides across the white railing that separates me from the water. The windows I pass by are dark black and reflective. At the end of the pathway, I see a narrow set of stairs. I walk up with a quiet step, careful not to draw attention to myself. If I can avoid Mikhail like the plague, I will.
Once I reach the top, I see Dimitri—I think that’s his name—through the windows. These ones are clear. If I saw anyone else in the room, I would’ve turned back around and acted as if I never saw them, but I think I can work with Dimitri. He reminds me a lot of my brother, Ruslan. I’ve only spoken to him once, but the first thing he said to me was snarky. While I might have been annoyed in the moment, I can laugh about it now.
I watch him closely from a distance. He sits on a long white sofa facing the wheel. His elbows dig into his knees as he stares at a large sheet of paper. Before he catches me staring at him, I decide to knock on the door.
Lifting his eyes, he squints at me before he jerks his head to the side, telling me to come in.
I open the door, proceeding into the room as if there’s yellow caution tape attached to the frame. My attention goes straight to the panels that control the boat. Five large screens are placed below the slanted window, giving a view of the entire ship. There are so many red buttons I’m afraid to even be in this room.
“Are you thinking about taking control of the boat,matros?” he asks, flashing me an infectious smile.Sailor.
Dimitri’s face is on the rounder side and his beard looks prickly. His eyes are hooded, almost welcoming.
I smile weakly and say, “Not like I could.”
