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I don’t know how much time passed.
Could be minutes. Could be hours. All I know is that I come to with a groan, head pounding, torn thigh throbbing. My hands are bound behind my back, and I’m slumped in a chair.
The study. I’m in my study.
Scarlett!
I surge against the bonds that hold me, but they’re tied too tightly; I can barely breathe, let alone move.
“Fuck!” I growl, impotent rage making every muscle strain as I try to break free.
Adrenaline surges through me as I remember how they’d wrestled her down. Did she get away? Unlikely. And Niko… Jesus! I can only hope that they haven’t found him. There’s little chance of anyone accidentally stumbling upon that room; it’s too well hidden.
Please… God, please let him keep his head and stay quiet.
I crane my neck to see out the window, but it’s too dark to make anything out.
Definitely hours since they took me.
Must be.
Then come the footsteps. The door creaks open, and a figure steps into the room, illuminated by the dim light. The knot in my chest tightens as I recognize the man standing in front of me. Tall, coarsely built, his face like a rough-hewn sculpture carved from granite. But it’s his eyes that strike fear in most hearts. They’re dead. Flat as a corpse’s.
Sergei Volkov.
“Anton,” he says with a sneer, his voice dripping with malice. “I see you’re finally awake.”
I glare at him balefully. Those dead eyes might intimidate others, but they’ve never frightened me. Not when I know where his bodies are buried. Largely because I buried them. This man’s reputation was built on my ability to rain death. I curl my lip as I look at him, knowing he’ll feel my contempt.
“Where is she?” I demand, my voice hoarse from the beating I took earlier. “What did you do with her?” I don’t mention Nikolai. If I don’t speak about him, perhaps they won’t focus on finding him.
Sergei chuckles darkly “Scarlett,” he says, drawing out her name as if savoring it. “She’s quite the beauty, isn’t she? A pity you got her mixed up in all this.”
“Leave her out of it,” I snarl, my heart pounding in my chest. “This is between you and me.”
If he lays a fucking hand on her-
I don’t let myself think about it.
“Ah, but you see, Anton,” Sergei leans in closer, his breath reeking of stale tobacco, “You made it personal when you turned your back on the Bratva. You knew there would be consequences. And with having Scarlett around, you’ve given me the perfect instrument to remind you of those consequences.”
Motherfucker.
“Fuck you, Volkov,” I growl, trying to control the rage bubbling inside me. “You have a score to settle. Settle it with me.”
“Patience, old friend,” he smirks ignoring my insult. Then he leans in, rests his palms on my thighs and presses down slowly. I grit my teeth to supress the groan as the bullet wound screams in protest. Still, sweat beads on my forehead. “We have all night to catch up. And trust me, I have many plans for you. Your pretty little bitch is just the cherry,” he leers, “on top of the cake.”
I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to curse him and his entire bloodline. I know better than to reason with Sergei. Instead, I focus on my surroundings, searching for any way out of this situation – any opportunity to strike.
My thoughts race back to Scarlett and Nikolai. I can only pray they’re safe from Volkov’s men. That Scarlett somehow escaped and that Nikolai’s hiding space hasn’t been discovered. I clench my bound hands into fists, feeling the rough ropes digging into my skin.
“Where is she?” I demand again, unable to keep the urgency from my voice. Sergei’s eyes narrow, and he circles me like a predator sizing up its prey.
“Your precious Scarlett is being…entertained by some of our associates,” he says with a sinister grin, his words filling me with dread. And the cold realization that she didn’t get away. “As for your son, we’ll find him soon enough.”
My mind goes blank with adrenaline.
“Touch them, and I swear, Sergei, you’ll beg for death before I’m done with you,” I snarl, my vision turning red with rage.
