My captor circles me in a predatory way, still holding the knife as his man walks through the rotten doors and shuts them behind him, leaving me alone with a wolf ready to devour its prey.
I swallow hard as he comes around to stand in front of me again, staring at me with his alluring dark eyes, eyes so dark they look like the midnight sky, they could almost be black if it weren’t for the flecks of amber reflecting the light in the room. A scar runs through his right eye, giving his beauty a rough edge that only enhances his perfection.
A muscle flexes in his jaw, drawing my attention to the harshness of his masculinity. He has a perfectly straight nose and full lips that give him an unfair beauty, paired with dark chestnut hair cut just to the right length to slide your fingers through it.
Heat spreads up my neck and into my cheeks as I realize that I’m admiring how attractive my kidnapper is. A man who has been spinning a little knife in my face threateningly for at least ten minutes now, avoiding all of my questions.
I should be thinking of anything but his looks. For example, who the hell is he and what does he want from me?
Two questions I’ve already asked, but that went unanswered by this demon in a suit.
“I said, do you understand? I want to hear your answer,” He growls.
Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head in an attempt to clear my mind of inappropriate thoughts. “Yes.” I’m not an idiot and I know that being at the mercy of this man means I have to do as I’m told, to a certain extent. It’s the only way I can hope to survive this and learn why I’m here.
A sinister smirk curls onto his lips as he nods. “Good.” He walks closer, the knife still in his hand as he slides the tip beneath my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes. “As it would be a shame to destroy something so pretty.”
Fear coils through me, tightening my gut as the tip of the knife digs into my skin. Those dark eyes hold my gaze as if waiting for me to break it, but I sense showing him weakness would be the worst possible move right now.
After what feels like an age, he pulls the knife away and turns his back to me, walking around the back of my chair. It gives me a momentary respite from his intimidating gaze. My heart is thundering against my rib cage, but I try to bring it under control while not under the scrutiny of my captor.
“How much do you think your father would pay for your return?”
Dread sinks into my stomach like a lead weight. “Not very much.” It’s the truth. My father doesn’t view my life as a very important commodity. A good match may bring him a bit more power and money, but it’s not something he needs.
“I’m not sure that’s true.” He stops in front of me again, eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t your father pay a hefty price for your return?”
“Because he doesn’t really care whether I live or die.”
The man’s eye twitches, the first sign that he’s rattled. “Surely you are a powerful asset.”
I shake my head. “My marriage to a politician or businessman will bring him a bit more power, but he doesn’t need it.”
“That doesn’t bode well for you.”
“What would you like from my father?” I ask, hoping that perhaps whatever he wants is worth my life.
“Moscow.”
I stare at the devil in front of me, trying to understand what exactly he means. “Moscow?”
“Yes, I want him to back down for a new king to take over the city.”
I laugh then, wondering if this man is joking. My father wouldn’t give up Moscow for anything.
“What’s so funny?” he snaps, knife still firmly in his hand, as he stares at me menacingly.
“My father wouldn’t give up Moscow for anything, not even his heir.” I shake my head. “Yulian would have been a better target and even then he’d let him die a painful death before giving you the crown.”
He drops the knife and then suddenly wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing hard. “Then you will wish you were never born.”
Fear slams into me again as he glares at me, his fingers twitching against my skin. I can’t breathe well and I wonder if I’m about to die so young. “For your sake, you better hope that you’re wrong.” His fingers flex and tighten, squeezing just a little harder. “Your future hinges on your father’s actions.” Suddenly, he releases my throat.
I gasp for oxygen, my stomach churning like the inside of a dryer on a high spin. This man oozes darkness and danger and he’s just made it clear that unless my father wants to give up his entire empire, then my future is bleak. The chance of that happening is zero, so I’m resigned to my fate.
He stares at me and it feels like the air between us crackles with electricity.
“Then I guess I’ll have to accept a pretty dire future. My father won’t give up his throne for all the money in this world.”