Chapter 32

Katja~

M y phone kept going off, and like an asshole, Klive kept checking it, making taunts about how I must be late for work, which would bring on a whole other host of problems if my supervisor or one of my co-workers decided to call the police for a welfare check.

The asshole also hadn't shared the conversation that he'd had with Maksim with me. While I'd heard bits and pieces at the start of it, Klive had ended up walking into the kitchen for the rest of their talk, so I had no idea what the hell was happening, and I just didn't have the energy to ask. I needed to find a way out of here, and as long as I was tied to this goddamn chair, my options were limited. In hindsight, I should have taken off running when I'd had the chance. In fact, knowing what I knew now, I should have just called the police when Klive had first approached me. Instead, I'd chosen to turn my life into a bad Lifetime movie, and I hadn't helped the situation by continuously making wrong choices.

I really was fucking stupid.

"You know, it is quite addicting when you finally have all the power," Klive remarked as he walked back into the living room from the bathroom. Though there wasn't any running water here, I still appreciated that he hadn't whipped his dick out in front of me to piss on the floor. "It is always a woman that is a man's downfall, no?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said as I watched him set my phone on one of the dirty windowsills.

Klive looked back at me, his brown eyes so much like Maksim's. "You said that you did not matter to Barychev," he replied quietly. "You said that you were just a random whore."

"I am," I insisted, dread beginning to creep down my spine.

"Then why is he willing to trade his life for both his brother and you?" he asked, surprising me.

I started shaking my head. "You're wrong. Maksim would never sacrifice himself for me."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but that is exactly what he did."

"No, you're wrong. You…you must have…have misheard, or…or they're setting you up." I shook my head again. "I'm irrelevant to that man. Trust me."

"Then let us test that theory, shall we?" he smirked as he made his way over to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice steady.

Klive walked over to stand behind me, and when I felt his hot breath on my ear, it was all that I could do not to scream. "I need you to smile into the camera, milaya devushka."

"For what?" I bit out.

"For the show, of course," he chuckled darkly, and I almost threw up everywhere.

Klive wasted no time reaching over to begin unbuttoning my shirt, and had I known that I was going to be kidnapped and molested this morning, then I would have chosen to wear a regular work t-shirt with my jeans, instead of the button-up option that we had. Normally, I dressed casually if I was scheduled to stay in the office, but when I had scheduled maintenance visits, I wore our company's shirts.

When Klive was finished unbuttoning my shirt, he pulled the lapels apart, showing off my bra, and I couldn't help but think of that night at Millie's. Men kept showcasing my body without my permission, and the cold reality of helplessness was a bitter pill to swallow. Before all this, I used to think that I was strong, and like most women, had played out scenarios in my head of what I would do if I was ever attacked, but the reality was so much different than the false bravery in our heads. Sure, I could come up with all kinds of excuses of how I'd been manipulated, but I'd never been big on blaming the other guy for my poor choices, and not going to the police when Klive had first approached me had been the worst decision of my life, no matter how noble my reasons.

Nevertheless, I wasn't going to feed Klive's sick thrills. So, instead of smiling into the camera, I looked down at my lap as he used his knife to cut through the middle of my bra, exposing me. I needed to get out of here before he raped or killed me, and I needed to be smart about it.

When Klive's hand cupped my left breast, it was all that I could do not to start crying, raging, and falling apart. It was all that I could do to keep my wits about me and not just fucking lose it. It was hard not to just start despising the male species as a whole. The only thing saving me was that I knew for a fact that there were good men out there. My father had been one of them, and my grandfather was still the best person that I'd ever known.

" Lisus Khristos , you feel good, milaya devushka," he said as he fondled me, his voice a disgusting blanket of evil. "No wonder Barychev is willing to die for you."

I didn't say anything to that because he was wrong, of course. Even if Maksim really did care for me, Avgust Kotov wasn't going to let him start a bloodbath for some piece of ass that he was screwing. As powerful as Maksim Barychev was, it was Avgust Kotov that ran things, and Klive kept forgetting that important fact.

His other hand came up to cup my other breast, and all I could think about was how he wasn't holding the knife any longer or the gun. Both of his hands were occupied, and that gave me hope. If he wanted to rape me enough to be careless, then I had a chance.

"I cannot wait to send him a video of my dick in your mouth," he whispered in my ear, and I almost laughed.

That was my way out of this.

As a plan started developing in my head, Klive kept molesting me, but hope was stronger than fear at this moment, and so I forced myself to concentrate on what to do next, rather than give in to the shame that was definitely going to hit me later. After all, my stupidity and compliance were what had placed me in this chair, and self-awareness really was an unforgiving bitch.

When he was finally done playing the part for the camera, he stopped touching me, then walked over to where he had placed the phone. After turning it off, I watched his fingers fly over the screen, and I knew that he was sending the video to Maksim, and if that wasn't irony working overtime, then I didn't know what was. Once upon a time, Maksim had been perfectly fine with taking me in front of an audience, but now that he was the actual audience, I couldn't help but wonder how he'd feel about that.

"It is only fair, do you not think?" Klive asked after he set the phone back on the windowsill.

"What is?" I asked, refusing to let him shame me.

"Our father used my mother as his whore, so it seems fitting that I use Maksim's woman for that same purpose," he answered, and it was incredible how much their family dynamics was none of my business. "I had to spend years watching our father come and go without any regard for anyone but himself, so it only seems right to make Maksim feel the same way since Akim is already married."

"I honestly have no idea what in the hell you're talking about," I told him.

Klive walked over to me, then sat down on the questionable wooden coffee table in front of me. His brown gaze regarded me intently as he asked, "Have you ever seen a desperate person fight for their life?"

"What?"

"As your life flashes before your eyes, you will desperately grab onto anything that you think might be able to save you," he went on as if I hadn't spoken. "You don't care what it is, either. Your panicked hands will reach out for anything that will spare you. You don't care how ridiculous or impossible it might seem. Even if your mind knows that it cannot save you, you still try. You try to save yourself with whatever is available, and you are what is available to me, milaya devushka. Since I cannot get to Akim or his family without it costing my own life, you are the next best thing. Even if I did believe that Maksim held no affection for you, I would still use you because you are the only thing within my reach right now."

"So…" I let out a hollow laugh. "So, you're doing all this to me because I'm convenient? Are you serious right now?"

"I did not come all this way from Russia, then bide my time for five years to fail," he said, still acting like I knew what he was talking about. "Though intentional or not, the Sartoris and O'Briens have helped thwart my plans over the years, and I am done waiting."

"I don't get it," I bit out, desperation threatening to make an appearance. "Why not just shoot Maksim or Akim dead?"

"I do not want to martyr myself for my revenge," he stated simply.

I shook my head in disbelief. "That's the part that I think you don't understand. The second that you decided to go up against the Kotovs, you were already a dead man. It doesn't matter if you kill me or not, Klive. As long as you're alive and a threat to Maksim or Akim, they won't stop until you're dead. How can you not see that?"

"They would have to follow me to Russia to accomplish that," he replied coolly.

"Because you think that they won't?" I countered. "Maksim Barychev is the second-highest ranking member of the Russian Bratva, and if you think that they won't follow you into the bowels of Hell to find you, then you're very mistaken."

"Well, we will see about that, will we not?" he huffed with misplaced attitude.

"We won't," I retorted. "But you definitely will."