Chapter 48

Mishka

Istared at my hands, knowing that even if I could release them from the painfully tight zip tie, I would not get very far.

I had to try. I had to be ready. I knew Anton would come for me. I knew he would find me.

Even though I was very, very angry with him. And that anger was keeping me from being as frightened as I could be. As I most likely should be.

The man who had taken me was terrifyingly strong and seemed completely lacking in emotions.

‘Focus on Anton, and be ready to escape', I told myself over and over again.

Anton had spied on me. Set up cameras in my bedroom, from what I could tell. There was no way he could have imagined what I was wearing or doing that night. The level of detail had been astonishing. He had noticed the chickenpox scar on my hip, the curve of my fingers on the bow, and even the tiny satin flower nestled between my breasts that adorned the otherwise simple white bra and panties I wore.

He had watched me. But why? And for how long?

Had he watched me sleep? Change my clothes? Talk to my father? Pace and cry when I was so tired of pretending to be okay that I had no other choice?

The betrayal was stunning.

And yet… I knew that he loved me. That he had chosen me from all the women on earth to be his. That he would die to protect me.

I could feel him now. He knew I was missing. He was coming to save me.

I relaxed, turning my eyes to stare out the window. I would be ready when the moment came. For now, I would conserve my energy. It was all I could do.

An hour later and we were pulling into a desolated industrial complex. Deserted warehouses stretched for miles in either direction. It was a place where no one would hear you scream. No one would hear a thousand people scream.

Only the rats, I realized with a shiver.

Nothing grew here. Not even a weed was poking through a crack in the asphalt. There was no one and nothing.

My heart started to pound as the SUV rolled to a stop and I was unceremoniously yanked from the vehicle. I stumbled and one of my shoes fell off.

I was half dragged, trying not to stumble with one bare foot and another in a pair of black ballet flats that I once wore to serve breakfast and lunch. Heels had been required for dinner, I thought inanely.

Who cared about that now? What mattered? Nothing did. Nothing at all.

I was pulled inside an open cargo bay and then released. I wanted to wrap my arms around myself. It was cold and I needed the comfort. But my hands were still tied in front of me.

"Is this her?"

The imperious voice seemed to come out of nowhere. I looked around. All the man who had taken me said was ‘da'. I still did not know who had taken me, or why.

"Pretty. A waste," I heard a sigh.

"Should I finish then?"

A pause. A long, endless pause where the man holding me raised a pistol and pointed it at my chest. He was very close. He would not miss.

I swallowed and ceased to think. I could not. The terror was too great.

"Nyet. She might be with child."

The voice now had a body. A tall, well-built older man appeared from a doorway I had not noticed before. There was a huge glass window. He must have been watching us. Waiting.

"Who cares? She could be carrying anyone's brat."

"She was a virgin two days ago. And they are already wed," the man looked at me with curiosity. He had the coldest eyes I had ever seen.

And yet I recognized them.

They were Aslanov eyes. This was Anton's father. My father-in-law.

We were legally family, I realized. Despite the lack of feeling in his eyes.

"I see you recognize me. Yes, I am Anatoly Aslanov," he stepped closer, gripping my chin and lifting it. "My, you are a pretty little thing. If you weren't the property of my son, I would sample you myself."

I jerked my chin free, disgust overriding my fear. What a pig! He was vile. How could such a man have raised my Anton? He might not be perfect, the hidden cameras had more than proven that, but he was not disgusting.

"Spirited, too. I would break you of that quickly. I would enjoy the process. You would not," he chuckled. "My son chose well."

"Take your hands off her," I heard my husband snarl.

Relief flooded my system. He was here. He loved me. He had come to save me.

A moment later I saw that he was not alone. His men were there. And his brothers. And their men.

I almost sagged in relief.

But then I saw the men streaming in to surround his father. There were more. I doubted they were as furious as Anton. Nor would they fight with the same fury.

"I will kill you for touching what is mine, Uranov."

"No, you won't," Anatoly said with a confidence that made everyone freeze, hands on guns, ready to fight.

I looked from one to the other. Like the brothers, their father was tall, muscular, handsome beyond reason. But his cruelty shone from his cold blue eyes.

Then his lips quirked into a smile.

"This was all a misunderstanding. Today is your wedding day. We will return to the estate, and celebrate with you."

"Like hell you will," Anton snarled.

"Me alone, then. I should be there," another smile. "Or people will talk. You want the other Bratvas to know she is fully under our protection, do you not?"

A pause. Anton made a strangled sound.

"Uranov can wait outside," Anatoly continued as if Anton had agreed. But I knew he was right. Anton and his brothers would agree. They would not start a war. Not now.

Not today.

Anton snapped out an order and one of his men knelt in front of me and snipped through my zip tie. Suddenly I was wrapped in his arms, inhaling his warm, unique scent. It felt like coming home.

"Tell your men to get out," Alexei said, sounding only slightly calmer than my husband had. A moment later, Anatoly nodded and men streamed from the warehouse towards the back. All except for their father, and Uranov. A small contingent of men remained behind, surrounding them.

"Anton," I heard Andrei say, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Let's go."

I felt Anton losen his grip on me slightly. Just enough for me to realize I was on the verge of fainting. I felt myself drop in his arms.

Anton cursed and lifted me, his proud handsome face staring down at me with concern. I gave him a look.

"I'm mad at you."

He squeezed me.

"I know."

"Why? Why did you…"

"Hush. I will tell you everything. Let me get you home first. You need to rest."

"What about the wedding?"

"We can delay it for a day," he said mildly. I could feel him tense before he asked "do you still want to marry me?"

I glared at him.

"Honestly? I am not sure."

He gave me a tender smile.

"It is a good thing we are already married, then."

He placed me into the backseat of an armored SUV, then climbed in beside me, pulling me back into his arms immediately. He draped his black wool blazer over me, using his hands and body to warm me. He snapped at his men and a bottle of water appeared, along with some crackers.

"We could get an annulment," I said, pouting at him as he opened the crackers and tried to feed them to me.

"We could not. The marriage has been thoroughly consummated," his eyes were full of heat and promise. "And will be consummated again. As soon as you are rested," he added, trying to get me to drink the water.

"I could run away."

"I will find you. And bring you back," he lifted my chin and stared into my eyes. "I will always bring you back."

His men were in the car now, studiously ignoring us as they pulled out onto the road and turned towards home.

Home.

"It would be best if you forgave me."

"Why?" I asked, still angry. Still pouting. But feeling so safe and secure in his arms.

"Because I will never, ever let you go."

I huffed. I had to. But I let him tend to me. It was not long before I gave into the inevitable and found myself snuggling deep into his arms.