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“I’m not asking, Eden.” There’s an unnerving edge to his voice. “Get in the car.”
I wrench my hand tightly, finally freeing myself from Nikolai, and spin on my heel to run. My breath comes in shallow gasps. There’s a police officer leaning next to his patrol car, and I race toward him, stumbling to a stop in front of him.
“Officer, please,” I plead, glancing nervously over my shoulder at Nikolai, who stands by his limo with the door wide open. “That man won’t leave me alone. I think he’s trying to kidnap me.”
The officer frowns at me and then looks over at Nikolai. His expression softens slightly when he turns back to me. “It’s all right, miss. Let’s go talk to him together.”
What?!
Talk to himtogether?
I stare at the cop, but he doesn’t skip a beat as he gently takes my hand and leads me back toward Nikolai. My stomach churns at the thought of confronting Nikolai, and I feel my feet moving on their own even as my mind screams at me to break free and run.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! How could I be so stupid!
“Apologies, my pakhan,” the cop dips his head out of respect toward Nikolai. “This one was trying to get away.”
Blood drains from my face and my ears start ringing at the words I’m hearing. Is he … handing mebackto Nikolai? Does heknowhim?
What is happening?
My mind blanks as the cop bows before departing. Nikolai guides me into the limo and then slides into the back seat behind me before I can do anything.
“Trust me,” he says, “this is for your own safety.”
“Are you going to rape me?” I ask him, my murmuring voice hardly louder than a whisper in a storm.
Fear turns to surprise, and surprise transforms to anger when Nikolai throws his head back and laughs at my question as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.
It’s so enraging that I forget our circumstances—that he just forced me into his car, and that he’s taking me somewhere of his choosing—and try to hit him without thinking.
He intercepts my wrist, and the look in his eyes freezes me in place. The grip tightens until I can barely move. I don’t know if I should plead with him or struggle to break free. But the strengthof his grip keeps me rooted in the seat—pliant and obedient to his every whim.
Scenery blurs as we race along Fifth Avenue, and it feels like we’re traveling under a cloak of darkness to a place where I know I will never escape.
To stay sane, I think about the painting—the single chrysanthemum suspended above the water, symbolizing the beauty of isolation. It feels like an ironic reminder of the life I’m trapped in, torn between love and guilt.
What is going to happen to me? Panic grips my throat and I shake in my seat, staring out the window as buildings rise around me like the bars of a prison.
7
NIKOLAI
Eden triesto run the moment we take her out of the limo beneath my building. Rurik catches her quickly, but not before she kicks him in the shin. Cursing, he hands her to me. My grip on her arm is unyielding as she stumbles off the elevator and into my penthouse.
When the door opens at the penthouse, her fear is displaced by wonder and awe. She stares slack-jawed at the pristine floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the city below us, and then she does a double take at the artwork on the walls.
Warhol, Basquiat, Malevich, Mapplethorpe, Nevelson. And, of course, Rothko.
The open-concept living area is filled with modern-era furniture, a sleek fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and artifacts. There is undeniable admiration in her eyes as she tries to take in every detail of her new luxurious surroundings.
Eden walks in a trance toward a wall that’s not there. Her fingers touch the glass as she looks out at the world at midnight. Thelights of Manhattan sparkle in the darkness as if the stars above have landed on Earth.
Slowly, she turns to look at me and reality crashes back into her eyes. I grab her before she can think of doing something stupid.
“Let go of me!” When I don’t respond, she stares at Rurik in desperation. “Please don’t let him hurt me!”
Rurik’s face remains an impassive mask as I pull Eden toward the stairs. All around us, household staff avert their eyes and ears, deliberately deaf to her desperately begging for help. They know better than to interfere.
