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“I didn’t give it,” he answers curtly. “I’ll be bringing you dinner in a bit. Stay out of trouble, ma’am.”

“It’s Aleksandra,” I say.

“I know.”

He shuts the door abruptly, leaving me standing in my bedroom, a box of toys in hand. I carry the box into the kids’ room, placing it on the floor for them to explore. I have half a mind to withhold the gifts. I don’t want Antonio buying their affection.

But there’s already so much happening, and at least a new box of toys will keep their minds off what’s happening around them. I hope.

* * *

We’re served dinner from the same guard who brought the toys and clothes to the room. He cleans up our trays when we’re done, locking the door when he leaves, keeping us captive.

Why is Antonio doing this?

What does he want?

It isn’t easy to sleep, and the moment the sun comes up, I’m out of bed and in the shower. There are new toiletries in the bathroom and a fresh fluffy towel hanging on a hook by the shower.

I clean up, dress, and wait for the twins to wake. I don’t want to startle them. At least they’re calm and quiet. Pretty soon, they’re going to grow antsy, being cooped up inside the bedroom.

How long are we prisoners with the Morettis?

If Antonio is expecting Mikhail to offer up something to trade for us, he’ll be sorely mistaken.

There’s no television in the bedroom. There’s a window at the far opposite end of the room from the door. It overlooks the courtyard, which is relatively barren this time of year.

There isn’t much to do. There are no books in the room, no obvious form of entertainment. Is Antonio trying to bore me to death?

At least he had the kids’ interests in mind.

They remain asleep as the sun shines through the curtains. I keep the adjoining room door slightly ajar if they need anything or stir. Besides, I want to know if someone attempts to sneak into their bedroom.

I don’t trust Antonio or his men.

Why should I? They kidnapped us.

There’s barely a knock at the entrance to my room, and the lock clicks. Antonio invites himself in without waiting for my permission.

It’s his house. I suppose there’s no privacy for me as his prisoner.

“How long are you going to keep us here against our will?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest. I stand from the bed, not trusting that he won’t hurt me.

I need to protect myself and my children. At least they’re asleep, and I don’t hear any movement from their bedroom.

“As long as necessary,” Antonio says. “When the children wake, get them dressed and let the guard know they’re ready. They’ll have breakfast downstairs with the other children.”

He has to be mad. “You’ve kidnapped other kids?”

He emits an exasperated sigh and steps farther into my room.

I don’t want him in here, not that I have a choice. I take a tentative step back, keeping the distance between us. I don’t want him to trap me in the small space.

“You have a penchant for not listening.” His gaze never wavers as he pins me with his stare. His tone is forceful. “As I mentioned before, your brother threatened the family, includingchildren,” he emphasizes. “They’ve been invited to stay under my roof until the matter is resolved.”

“Resolved?” I repeat. “How do you plan on doing that?” I ask. “Mikhail will never negotiate with you. And if you think holding me here for ransom will help, you’re wrong. He’d sooner sacrifice his niece, nephew, and me than give you anything.”

The bratva doesn’t care about the family they were born into. All that matters is their brothers, the family they’ve been accepted into by spilling blood.


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