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“You don’t risk a food shortage here,” I say.

“Tima cooks for the men who live in the barracks.” He crosses his hands behind his back. “In their line of work, they have high caloric demands.”

I nod like feeding an army of men is a normal household occurrence. “I see.”

He stands aside, letting me exit ahead of him. “Let’s finish our tour. I have to take care of business, and you need to rest.”

We go down the hallway and through a dining room with a table that can seat twenty people. Until now, I hadn’t truly comprehended how wealthy Alex is. His house in New York is on the upper end of the scale, but it’s a lot humbler than this palace in St. Petersburg. It seems he has a full-time housekeeper in every house he owns, and there are two hundred men on his security payroll. I don’t even want to know how many people his various businesses employ. Not to mention he smuggled me into Russia on his private plane with no passport or visa. Who can do that?

Who is the man I fell for in New York City? He’s so much more powerful than I could’ve imagined, and it frightens me. I’m completely at his mercy. We’re on his home territory, and he has all the control. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for a woman with no resources, no passport, no phone or money, and very limited knowledge of Russian to escape from such a powerful man.

At the top of the first-floor landing, he pauses. “You’re very quiet.”

“It’s a lot to take in.” And I don’t just mean this house or palace or whatever you call it.

His expression softens. “You need a little time to adapt, I understand.”

It’ll take a lot more than time, but I swallow my retort as he opens a carved wooden door and guides me into a spacious bedroom with a big window that overlooks the front garden. A four-poster bed stands in the middle of the floor. The burgundy velvet bed curtains tied back with golden cords look like something from a medieval scene.

His voice drops an octave, the deep timbre sending a shiver down my spine. “This is where we sleep.”

At we, my heart trips over a beat. Does he think our relationship will continue unchanged when he’s made me his prisoner? I don’t even know how I’m going to explain my disappearance to my mom or to my supervisor, June.

Below in the garden, the men in their white camouflage combat gear scout the property. The gigantic iron gates are closed. From this level, I can make out the spikes on top of the wall that make scaling over it impossible. A surveillance camera is fixed every few yards. Like creepy robots, they turn their heads constantly, scanning the surroundings with electronic eyes. There must be a control room somewhere.

It’s like being locked up in a prison. I have no way of communicating with the outside world. Yet if I don’t inform my mom and my employer about my impromptu trip, they’ll be worried sick. They may even report me missing. With how meticulous Alex is in everything he does, he must’ve already thought up a plan to explain my absence, but I don’t want to disappear without giving my mom some kind of explanation.

Whatever I tell her, I can’t admit the truth. I won’t put that burden on her shoulders. Besides, if she learns what Alex has done, she’ll want to leave the clinic where she’s being treated for rheumatoid arthritis. It’s a ridiculously expensive program that Alex is paying for, and she’ll refuse to benefit from the charity of a man who’s kidnapped her daughter. This is her only chance at a better quality of life, and I don’t want to ruin it for her. She’s been in pain for so long, and she deserves this more than anyone I know.

I hate asking Alex for anything, but I don’t have a choice.

Schooling my features, I turn away from the disconcerting sight of the unbreachable fortress wall. “Alex?”

He frowns. “You look tired. Did I wear you out with the tour after our long flight?”

“Where’s my handbag?”

A shutter drops in front of his eyes. “You don’t need it for now.”

Renewed anger heats my blood, indignation burning like a flame in the pit of my stomach. For the sake of my mom, I swallow it down and say evenly, “I need my phone.” The man facing me is dangerous. Ruthless. I remind myself of that fact as I carefully choose my words. “I can’t just vanish without an explanation. I have to call the hospital and my mom. She’ll worry if I disappear. You have to let me speak to them.”

His easy agreement as he says, “Sure,” and takes his phone from his pocket surprises me. Unlocking the screen with his thumb print, he hands me the device. “I was planning on letting you call later.”


Tags: Anna Zaires White Nights Crime