Chapter 7: Sierra

My stomach rumbled as I sat on the bed with both legs pulled up against my chest. I was starving, but it wasn't like someone was going to burst that door open and bring me something to eat. Even if they did, it wouldn't be wise to eat my captor's food. But I was so fucking hungry that it made me feel dizzy.

In my head, I was unable to fathom how I got involved in something like this. I should have just walked away when I heard that noise that night; if I had done that, things would have probably turned out differently.

Mom would be worried sick by now, as would my stepdad and stepbrother. Madelyn had been drunk the night that I was taken, but knowing her, by the time she was sober, she must have tried to reach out as well.

I am so fucked right now .

I wiped a lone tear from my eye and sniffled as my mind raced through the possibilities of what this man would do to me. I realized that I didn't even know his name except for the fact that I had mistaken him for Madelyn's new boyfriend, Chris.

The door creaked open, interrupting my thoughts, and I jumped out of bed at the fear he'd come for me. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my breath was heavy as I watched the shadow on the floor grow larger by the minute. The last time I ran into him downstairs, he'd told me about how he could do awful things to me, and that fear was still in me.

I fixed my eyes on the entrance, anticipating his arrival, but when the door completely opened, it wasn't him who walked in. That was a relief. It was an elderly woman, a little bit plump, with black hair that fell over her shoulders. She was holding a tray in her hands, and judging by her dress, a black cloth with a white lace collar and white hem, I assumed that she was a maid.

"So sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she said, smiling at me as she walked into the room.

It was strange, but that pretty smile she beamed at me was enough to help me calm down a little. I watched her head over to a table and gently set the tray on it.

"You must be hungry," she said, turning to face me.

My stomach rumbled, and I placed a palm over it. I was starving.

I could eat a whole bear right now.

She noticed my reluctance and stepped forward, her eyes meeting with mine. "Excuse my manners—or lack of them. My name is Irina." She smiled.

Her wide grin and kindness seemed comforting, like she was to be trusted. But could I trust anyone in this house?

It's actually a mansion, my inner voice said.

Same thing.

"Mr. Tarasov asked me to be your assistant for the time being," she added.

So that's his name: Tarasov. Yep. Definitely Russian.

Irina was Russian, as well. Her English was smooth, but she still had the accent.

"Listen, I know this is hard to process." She sighed, drawing closer to me. "But trust me, he's not as bad as he seems."

"Oh, I doubt that, considering the fact that he kidnapped me," I said, finally finding my voice.

"I know it looks bad, but since he didn't kill you, it means he has other plans for you, and it involves you being alive. Believe me, I know; I've served the Tarasov family for decades as a maid."

"Decades?" I asked, raising my brows in disbelief.

She walked back to the table. "Don't overthink it. It's not that bad." Irina picked up the tray and returned to the bed where I was standing. "I'm serving you breakfast. Eat."

"How can you serve monsters?" I asked, unable to understand how such a sweet soul would last this long working for these heartless human beings.

"Monsters? No," she replied, glancing at the plates in the tray. "These are lobsters, not monsters. Here, try one." She passed me a dish.

I cast her a disbelieving look at her joke. "Very funny, Irina."

She laughed lightly. "Just trying to help you loosen up a little."

"I appreciate that," I said, managing to squeeze out a smile. "But how do you expect me to loosen up when this…Tarasov man kidnapped me and is planning God-knows-what?"

"I understand how you feel. I really do. But right now, there really isn't much that you can do about your situation," she replied, reaching out to hold my hand.

Her touch had the effect of a mother's, and in her eyes, I saw sympathy. She clearly didn't approve of this, but just like me, there wasn't much she could do about the situation.

"How did you end up working for these monsters, Irina?" I asked, my voice a little higher than a whisper.

"They aren't really monsters, my child," she said. "If they were, I wouldn't be standing here today."

"What do you mean?" I asked, curious to hear her story.

"I owe them my life and also the lives of my children." She sat down on the bed, tapping the space next to her.

I did the same, and she continued. "My husband had a gambling problem, and he owed some really powerful men a huge amount of money. He couldn't pay up, and when it was time, he ran away, leaving me and the kids at the mercy of the men he owed—the real monsters." Tears welled her eyes as she spoke, but Irina fought them back. "At the time, I didn't know about his debt, so when they came looking for him, and he wasn't home, they found me at my shop and threatened to kill me and my children if I didn't call him out. I didn't know then that the coward had run away."

I placed a consoling palm on her hand; it seemed like she survived what must have been a traumatic experience.

"Long story short, Artem Tarasov happened to stop by my shop that day, and he witnessed the whole thing. If he hadn't stepped in, they would have killed me and my children." She looked at me. "You see, the man you call a monster, my children and I call a hero."

"So, he forced you to serve him after that, didn't he?" I asked.

"As good as that might sound in your ears, it's not true. I chose to work for his family of my own free will."

"You think you owe them your life, but I think a couple of decades serving them should have paid off your debt," I insisted. "Yet, here you are."

"My loyalty to the Tarasov Bratva goes beyond what happened years ago. I've learned to love them, and I'd choose to work for them over and over again."

I couldn't understand her ridiculous loyalty, and my brows furrowed. "But they're monsters."

"Not all the time, they're not," she said. "Only when absolutely necessary. Most times, they're only cruel to their enemies." She sighed.

I glared at her. "But he's cruel to me, so I guess that makes me an enemy."

Irina pinched the bridge of her nose and changed the subject. "Just eat something. I know you're hungry."

"No, I won't." I folded my arms across my chest.

She was about to respond when the door opened, and he walked in, his presence prompting me to rise to my feet. Irina had said that he wasn't a monster, but the man menacingly walking toward me seemed a lot like one. His impeccable suit and the rich scent of his cologne might have masked the monster's skin, but I knew what I knew, and I was fucking afraid.

As he walked toward me, I took gentle steps backward, my heart racing faster than a galloping horse. He wouldn't tear his gaze off me, and the look in his eyes was threatening. One more step backward, my back connected with the wall, and my shoulders scrunched up as he stood in front of me.

"Do you want to live?" he asked, his voice bold and husky.

I was terrified, and instantly, tears began to burn my eyes. Of course, I wanted to live; why would he ask me that? Did he plan on killing me?

"I'll ask you one last time," he said. "Do you want to live?"

I swallowed and nodded with immediate effect. "Yes, yes, I want to live."

He stretched out his hand and toyed with my hair, then ran his finger along my arm. My body trembled at his touch, and the fear of what he might do to me was overwhelming.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him while I whimpered at his hold. "I don't plan to kill you, anyway." He looked into my eyes. "I plan to keep you."

Confused, I summoned the courage to ask, "Keep me? What—what does that mean?"

He scoffed and let go of my chin. "It means you'll become my wife."

"Wait. What? " My eyes widened, and I nearly choked despite not having anything in my mouth. Wife? What exactly is going on here?

He smirked and walked away. "Get ready. You're getting married."

Frustrated, I threw my hands to my head as he left the room.

Everything was happening so fast, and there was no pause button to push so I could have a better understanding of the whole situation. So, this was his plan all along? This was the reason he hadn't killed me—so I'd be his wife?

The tears I had been holding back now started to trickle down my cheeks as I struggled to process what he'd said. I hadn't known him from anywhere before the club, and just like that, he wanted me to marry him? Why would he want that? He and I belonged to different worlds; we were the exact opposite of each other, so how would this even work? He was a monster. I couldn't marry a monster and subject myself to a life of misery. No.

Irina approached me with that pretty smile of hers. "This is a good thing." She held my hand. "He will give you a life you couldn't possibly imagine."

"Are you being serious right now, Irina?" I pulled away from her, tears still stinging in my eyes.

"You're lucky he's marrying you rather than killing you," she said.

"I'm lucky ?" I scoffed at the ridiculousness of what she said. "Irina, he kidnapped me, and like that wasn't enough for him, now he wants to force me to marry him? Why? Why would he do that?" I sat on the bed, burying my face in my palms as I wept.

She sat by my side and took my hand. "He's trying to save your life, my child."

I jerked my head and looked at her; she seemed serious, like she meant it.

"He's trying to save you," she repeated. "You don't understand. He's doing this to save your life."

I was hit by a wave of confusion, turning my stomach and making my head spin.

What was she talking about? How was this whole situation going to save my life?

Irina looked at me as if relieved that I was out of harm's way, and she seemed to truly believe that.

This wasn't how I'd planned my life, and even though I was searching for a serious man who'd marry me eventually, this thing with Artem Tarasov was definitely not what I wanted for myself. Now, I was trapped with the man who'd taken me against my will, the man who had just made it clear that I was going to marry him. I knew I didn't have any other options, none whatsoever, and whether I liked it or not, I was going to his wife.

Irina wiped my tears, her smile still not slipping. "This is a good thing," she repeated.

Not to me, it wasn't. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.