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The woman begins to scream, so I move quickly, opening the back passenger door and grabbing her by the hair. I pull her from the vehicle, and she falls to her knees, but I force her to look at me. “Unless you want to end up like your friend, you should be quiet.”
“You lied,” she whispers, her expression full of hurt. “We gave you the things back, and you killed him anyway.” I stare at her innocent face.
Her green eyes give away every emotion she’s feeling. They remind me of . . . I shake my head, pulling her to her feet and shoving her back inside the vehicle. I climb in beside her so she’s sandwiched between me and Lev. “Drive,” I tell Alek.
I made the unusual decision to bring the woman back to one of my homes. I could see the questioning expressions on my men’s faces. They wanted to ask why, but none dared to. Instead, they followed my orders, and as we enter the large mansion, they bring her in kicking and screaming. I smile to myself. She’s a live-wire. I like that.
“Downstairs,” I instruct Igor, and he helps Alek manhandle her to the basement.
Maxim follows me to my office. “Should I ask?” Out of all my men, Maxim is my closest confidante. He gets away with much more than anyone else. I’ve known him since he was eight and I was thirteen, and that gives him a free ticket to ask me things no one else dare.
“No.”
“We could have killed her too and yet you spared her. Then you bring her to your Morozov manor.”
“She was an unexpected find. It was the closest property.”
“Will she be joining our girls?”
I think over his words before shrugging. “I haven’t decided.”
“Of course, she can’t go back onto the streets of London, but we have a lorry going to Poland this evening and a boat going to Russia tomorrow.”
“I haven’t decided,” I repeat, giving him a warning glare.
“Ivan,” he says with a sigh, “what’s going on?”
“Get me her name and run her checks.”
“I know it’s been hard, and today is harder than most—”
“I’m bored,” I say bluntly. “She might liven things up a little.”
“You’re going to toy with her?”
I shrug. “I haven’t decided. Do as I ask and run the checks.”
GRACE
I’m thrown into a basement. It’s cold and dark, and there’s only a small window high up on one wall that gives a slither of light. There’s nothing down here but a bucket, and I dread to think what that’s for.
The door opens and footsteps descend the stone stairs. A man comes into view and pulls a cord, then a light flickers on, but it’s dim, hardly making a difference.
“Name?” he asks firmly.
“Fuck you.”
“Name, little girl, or I will make sure fucking is all you do.”
“Fuck you,” I repeat.
A smile plays on his lips. “Your boyfriend made a stupid move today. It was his own fault.”
“Not my boyfriend.”
He holds up my rucksack, and I rush to him, trying to grab it. He kicks me away like I’m a dog, and I fall back onto my arse. “Touch me again and I will slit your throat,” he warns in a deadly tone. He proceeds to open the bag and empty the contents on the floor. My passport hits his foot and he grins, swooping down to collect it. “Grace Parker,” he reads. “Welcome to the Manor.”
“I’m not scared of you,” I warn him. “You’re a bunch of dicks, and when I get out of here, I’ll make your life a misery.” I say it with promise, but if I ever get out of here, I’ll run as far as I can away from him.
