My heart hammers in my chest, and I grip the sides of the seat.
Viktor glances at me, then lets out a chuckle before he slows the sports car down to an acceptable speed.
I glance out the window at the houses, and soon the wealthy neighborhood falls behind us as we approach a city.
God, I don’t even know where I am.
The realization hits so hard that I gasp.
“What?” Viktor asks, a frown quickly forming on his forehead.
“Where am I?”
“LA.”
Holy shit.
I turn my shocked gaze to him. “How did you get me out of Canada?”
He chuckles arrogantly. “Smuggling is one of the things I’m good at.”
“One of the things?”
With his attention on the road, he expertly steers the powerful vehicle through morning traffic.
I look at the buildings and feel a glimmer of excitement when we turn onto Rodeo Drive.
We drive past high-end brand stores and then weave through more streets before Viktor brings the Lamborgini to a stop.
My lips part, and I’m hit with a wave of emotion as I stare at the Barnes and Noble building.
“You brought me to a bookstore?” I ask.
“It’s one of your birthday gifts.” He glances around the area, then says, “Don’t make me kill anyone today.” He nods toward the store. “You’ll put everyone in there at risk if you try anything stupid. Got it?”
When I just stare at him, he adds, “Don’t forget who I am just because I’ve been nice to you.”
The head of the bratva and my kidnapper. How can I forget?
He’ll probably kill all the innocent people in Barnes and Noble if I try to ask for help.
I nod quickly, thinking I can try to escape by using the restroom. That way, I won’t endanger anyone.
Viktor climbs out of the car and comes to open the passenger door for me. Unintentionally, I take hold of his outstretched hand and follow him into the store.
I’m hit with the magical feeling you can only get when surrounded by thousands of books.
Viktor leads me to the fantasy section and gestures at the shelves. “Get whatever you want, Little Rose.”
I pull my hand free from his and brush my fingers over the spines as I read the titles.
Seeing as I don’t have my kindle, and there’s no guarantee I’ll escape, I grab a box set of Twilight and shove it into Viktor’s hands.
Again the man surprises me when he points to a section. “There’s the Nightworld series.”
Hold on a second.
Slowly, I turn my head to Viktor. “Do you read fantasy as well?”