Chapter 3 - Arina

The man who takes me does not say anything at first. I assume he is alone. Why would the Milovs do this? Why would they kidnap me? Did they figure out who I am to them and strike first? What will they do with me?

A phone rings, and I stay as still as possible even though my body aches from lying on the floor of the van and going over the bumpy road.

"I have her. It was easy, just as you thought it would be. Even with the Milovs around," the man says.

Then, more silence.

The man doesn't even hum along to the radio.

I need to plan my escape. I may be easy to kidnap, but I'm not easy to hold onto. I just need to time it right.

A part of me is curious about who has taken me, but another part doesn't want to find out. I have plans for the Milovs, and I don't need anyone interrupting them.

It feels like we're driving forever, and I just keep going over the plan. They're going to put me down somewhere, and I'm going to dart off and get out. I'm a fast runner. I did track in high school.

I also have this desire to find out who these people are that have kidnapped me. Mostly so I know who to avoid in the future, but also because an enemy of my enemy is my friend, you know, that whole malarkey.

He hits a bump, and I try not to make a sound even though I know that's going to leave a bruise later.

And another bump.

He slows down, and I feel like we are nearing our destination. I must remember to be dead weight in his arms, or he'll know I'm awake. I shut my eyes and breathe evenly.

The van pulls to a sudden stop, and I clench my jaw. This guy really doesn't give two shits about hurting me.

I hold still, relaxing all my muscles and hoping this dumbass doesn't drop me.

He opens the van door and drags me onto his shoulder. His shoulder digs into my stomach, and the smell of cigars and aftershave fills my nostrils.

He grunts slightly and carries me up the steps. I quickly peek through my eyelashes as we enter a mansion. I hope he doesn't take me too deeply into it, or I won't be able to find my way back out. I'm tempted to open my eyes again, but what if someone sees me?

What if he senses I'm awake and ties me up?

We walk for a short distance before I'm put down on something soft. It must be a sofa.

There's a moment of silence, and then I hear a gruff voice ask, "You didn't hurt her, did you?" He's quiet, as though he's worried about waking me.

My captor must still be in the room because I hear his voice next, "No, she struggled a little, but I overpowered her easily enough." I hear footsteps walking away from me.

"I'm surprised the Milovs didn't notice and follow me. That was my biggest worry." His voice is a little further away.

They both sound like they're further away when the other man talks. "I was going to use her as ransom, but I think I have bigger ideas for her. Did you really need to drug her?"

Yes, asshole, did you really need to drug me?

I peek at where they're standing and see they are on the other side of the room. The one who took me is somewhat facing me, but if I'm quiet and fast enough, I can get away.

"She struggled; I told you. It was easier that way than have her cry out to her brothers and cause a scene."

The older man almost seems amused. "Is a little girl too much work for you?" he scoffs. "I would think you'd be stronger than that."

I see my kidnapper square up to his boss, and I know they're distracted enough. I slip off the sofa and tiptoe to the door, slipping out. I look around and quickly make my way to another door. No, that's not the way out.

I go down the hallway a little.

I can hear them talking behind me. I don't have much time. They could discover I've gone at any moment. I leave the hallway and take some stairs down to the front entrance hall.

Yes, the front door.

I hurry toward it, and I'm so happy to have found it. I don't hear the footsteps behind me.

Suddenly, there's a presence pressed against me, and a hand slams the door I'm opening shut. "I think not."

"Let me go," I demand, turning to look at the man. He has a scar on his cheek, but his eyes are surprisingly expressive.

He quickly scoops me over his shoulder and carries me back up the stairs.

I start kicking and punching him, but he's built like a rock, and I feel like I'm doing far more damage to myself than to him.

"There's no point in resisting."

We walk back into the room where my kidnapper has returned. "Little bitch."

"Watch yourself, Matvey."

I am set down on the sofa a lot more gently than I expected, and the man and my kidnapper walk to the door together.

"You're just going to leave me here?" I demand to know.

Matvey glances at me and walks out. They look like they could be related, although the boss is definitely the older one. He locks the door and pockets the key.

"Miss Milov…"

"Don't call me that," I spit. "My name is Maia."

I study his large frame. I can see scars on his hands, face, and on his neck where he doesn't have tattoos.

"Miss Maia," he says again. "I'm surprised you prefer not to be called by your family name, but it's irrelevant, really."

He stands over me, but I don't like it, so I get up to look at him. "Are you at least going to offer me a drink?"

He chuckles. "You're feisty. I like that."

He walks over to where the drinks are kept. "Whiskey? Bourbon? Vodka?"

"Whiskey, neat," I say, walking to the window to try to get a lay of the land.

He comes over with a glass and hands it to me. "Lovely estate. It took me forever to pick one that suited my needs. I probably would have gotten a better deal if you had been my agent, though."

"You would have gotten the best deal," I say arrogantly. "Why have you taken me? I have things to do."

I sip my whiskey and look around the room.

"Perhaps we should start over. I am Igor Sidorov. I've recently moved over from Russia." He offers his hand.

I slip my petite hand into his large, rough hand and look him in the eyes. "Arina Maia, estate agent."

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it, and I withdraw it quickly. "Sauve, I'm sure the ladies fall for it in Russia all the time. What am I doing here?"

"Well, firstly, I must warn you, I won't take kindly to you trying to escape again. You're here, enjoy it. My servants will get you whatever you want to keep you comfortable."

"That's so sweet, but I have plans and can't stay." I drain my glass and set it down. "I'll be going now."

He grabs my arm and squares his shoulders. I swallow slightly. He is big and really strong. He isn't hurting me, but I know it won't be easy to break from his grip.

"So, you're just going to keep me captive here?" I ask. "Until what?"

"Until the wedding," he says. "Our wedding. We will be joined in holy union, joining both the Sidorov and Milov families."

I stare at him for a moment before I smile. "This is a joke? I'm being pranked, aren't I? Who put you up to this?"

"This is no prank," he says as he lets me go. "I will show you to your bedroom where you can rest. I will send someone to bring you refreshments before the wedding. Don't worry. I will treat you well as a wife."

My smile falls as he takes me by the arm again and leads me to the door. "What can I have the servants bring you up to eat? A sandwich or perhaps some fruit?"

I don't know what to say. This seems otherworldly. What the fuck is going on here?

I set out with my plan to destroy the Milov family, and suddenly, I'm getting married to another family to join the two together. Did my brothers think this was the best way to meet me? Although, from the sound of what that Matvey said, I don't think they really know.

Is this some old rival bullshit I'm being brought into?

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to achieve," I say as he leads me down the hall, "but the Milovs won't care if you marry me. They don't care about me."

"I'm sure they don't," he sounds sarcastic, and I twist to look up at him.

"They don't, I mean it. They've never cared about me."

"This will all be made easier if you don't fight it. I will have someone bring you some food. Is there anything specific you want?" He tilts his head to the side as we stop outside a door.

"This will be your room until we're wed. Then we will share a bed."

"I'm not sharing a bed with anyone," I growl.

He opens the door and pushes me in. "I'm afraid you don't have any choice in the matter."

A forced marriage.

He wants to force me into marriage to strengthen ties with the brothers who have ignored me my entire life. They grew up spoiled with love and care, with a proper education, and without the beatings that I got. The abuse that I endured.

They are here because they were treated well. I am here despite how I was treated.

And now some asshole is going to force me to marry him because I'm related to those pansy assholes. I get it. They're supposed to be these scary Mafia dudes. I've seen them out with their families. They're just normal guys.

I thought they wanted to use me as ransom, but now it seems like what they actually want is to use me as a tool for revenge.

In any other circumstance, I might have found Igor charming. He's tall, has a big frame, and large… hands. Despite his rough scars and tattoos, he has something that makes you get lost in his dark eyes.

Is he also in the Mafia? I've never heard of the Sidorov family before. He did say he'd just moved here from Russia, so maybe he's come to make his mark on American soil.

I wonder if that's why he's marrying me. For a green card. It doesn't explain why he thinks I'll be sleeping in his bed if it's just a sham.

I look around the room and sigh. There's a four-poster bed and a door that leads to an en-suite bathroom. I cross to the windows and try to open them, but they're sealed shut. Of course, I doubt he'd let me into a room where I could escape.

I pace around the room, looking for something I can use as a weapon.

The door opens, and I look up as a guard enters with a young woman.

"Your lunch, ma'am," she says, walking across to the table in the corner and setting down a tray. It seems Igor couldn't choose what to send me, so I have mini sandwiches and cut-up fruit. There's also a pitcher of what looks like lemonade and a tall glass.

"Enjoy," the young girl says.

"Thanks," I mumble, wondering if I can crack the glass against the guard's head standing outside hard enough to knock him out so I can escape.