CHAPTER 19

HOLLAND

The Mafia.

Well… Bratva.

I don’t know what to think, except that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my entire life. I’ve fallen for some guy that I don’t even know. I didn’t even ask him what he did for a living. I didn’t ask him shit. I spread my legs for him because he was sexy, and I saw dollar signs. Nothing more, nothing less.

Granted, I fell for him, but I don’t even know him. I don’t know anything about him. And now that I do, I’m not so sure that I want to be his wife. He’s a killer.

“He will not stay in jail for long. Should be able to be bonded out soon, then it’s just a bunch of paperwork and shit,” Kazimir states.

Lifting my eyes to meet his, I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter,” I announce. “I won’t be here when he returns.”

The moment I say those words, the air in the room turns to ice. The men all stare at me, their eyes are almost piercing and I suck in a breath. I feel completely uncomfortable and unsafe.

They are not happy with my announcement. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I shouldn’t have said anything, I should have just tried to disappear. But the reality of that is, I have nothing. Not a single penny to my name.

“You can’t,” Grisha states.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I decide to be a smart-ass. Again, not my best or smartest reaction. I’m not thinking like a woman who is sitting in front of three men who have just admitted they’re part of the fucking Mafia. I’m sitting in a room with three killers and nobody knows where I am.

Nobody will be looking for me.

Nobody gives a shit.

“I can’t?” I snap. “Who the hell says.”

“Danill owns you, krasivaya,” Kazimir announces.

“Excuse me?” I breathe. “I must have misheard you. I’m a woman, a person, I cannot be owned.” “That’s right,” Fyodor says.

I shift in my chair, thinking that I’m really something, especially since this man, who is obviously a leader of some kind, agrees with me. Then he speaks again, and I am completely deflated and feel a little sick.

“Danill doesn’t own her, he stole her. She wasn’t purchased. She’s his as a reward. For doing that job for me.”

“That job for you was?” I ask.

His eyes cut to mine, and he shakes his head once, his lips pressing together in a thin line. He obviously doesn’t want me to ask any more questions, but that’s exactly what I want to do. Mainly because if I’m asking questions and they’re answering, then I’m still alive.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answer to.”

That’s everything I need to know. Danill killed my father. “Why? Why did he kill him?”

Fyodor watches me for a long moment. He doesn’t speak and neither do the other two men in the room. The silence almost causes my entire body to ache. I flick my gaze between them, trying to clear my throat. Trying to breathe. Trying to just survive this moment.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will not be leaving. Not ever.”

I don’t like that answer, nothing about it. It terrifies me, just as much as the atmosphere in this room. The way they’re watching me, who they are. Everything about this moment scares me so much more than when the police surrounded us and took Danill away.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” I whisper, with tears building in my eyes.

I try to blink them back, but all I end up doing is causing them to fall down my cheeks. The men watch me for a moment and I expect them to look at me with pity or at least some kind of emotion at all. They don’t. They stare at me blankly as if they’re just waiting for me to get over this, as if it’s nothing.

Kazimir and Fyodor both stand, their gazes shifting from me to Grisha. “Stay,” Kazimir barks.

Grisha dips his chin, but doesn’t say anything in return. Then Kazimir looks over to me, his eyes finding mine and holding them for a moment. His lips curve up into a grin, but it doesn’t look kind. It looks kind of scary and I wonder if this is what he looks like before he kills someone.

“You’re Danill’s now. Don’t forget that and don’t get any ideas.”

Without another word, they walk away. They leave me alone with Grisha. I look over to him and he clears his throat as he watches me. I open my mouth to say something, then I snap my lips together. I don’t know what to do. What to say. Where to go.

DANILL

THERE IS NO BAIL.

It’s not because I can’t afford it, or because Kazimir or even Fyodor wouldn’t put up the cash, but because I am being labeled as a flight risk. Ludis tried everything, even told them I’d surrender my passport. It was a no go.

“This is bullshit,” I announce to Ludis.

He chuckles, then shakes his head a couple of times. He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine, and all humor leaves his features.

“We’re fucked on this, but we are not completely fucked.”

“Tell me what’s next,” I demand.

He clears his throat. “Now we wait. We’re going to push for a speedy trial, get those fucks dancing on their toes. We won’t lose.”

I want to believe him. I want to believe a lot of things, but the fact that they’re keeping my ass locked the fuck up until my trial has me feeling a bit unsure. I try not to think about my wife, what Holland must think about this. No doubt she’s figured some shit out about me, about herself too. About everything.

Once I’m transferred to my cell, I sit down on the edge of the cot and I let out a sigh. I’m not afraid of jail, of prison. I’m not afraid of much in this life, but I am concerned with Holland, and what will happen if I’m locked away for a few years.

They don’t have me on anything that they could keep me locked away with for more than a few years. But Holland and I haven’t known one another long, and she’s no doubt wondering what the fuck I’ve gotten her into.

There is a moment of silence, thankfully. One where I sit and stare at my feet and contemplate the future. I don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow, but I do know that no matter how angry or scared Holland is, my Bratva brothers will not allow her to leave me. They know that she is mine. They know that she can go nowhere else.

What they don’t know is that I fucking love her.

GRISHA

WOMEN.

They are not worth the troubles.

I see that without a doubt now. The way that Holland looks a little lost, defiant, and sad. I don’t know whether she needs a hug, some booze, or to be locked away in the bedroom.

Since I absolutely will not be hugging her, I walk over to Danill’s freezer and grab a bottle of vodka. Then I make my way over to the cabinet and take hold of two glasses before I walk back into the living room. Holland is still sitting on the sofa, her gaze focused straight ahead and I know that she doesn’t see anything, she’s just staring.

Setting the glasses on the coffee table, I pour the vodka, filling them half full. Setting the bottle down, I pick up a glass and shove it toward Holland. Her body jerks and she reaches for it, wrapping her fingers around the glass before she lifts it toward her lips.

I watch as she takes the entire contents of the glass and sucks it down in one gulp. Clearing my throat, I sit down across from her. I’m not sure what to say, what to do, but I know that she can’t try to leave. She can’t go and do whatever she wants.

“There are rules for you,” I begin.

Her eyes widen and she stares at me for a moment. I watch as she leans forward, wrapping her hand around the bottle of vodka, then instead of pouring it into a glass, I watch as she lifts it to her lips and takes a huge gulp.

“I don’t want rules,” she breathes.

Shaking my head, I chuckle. “You’ve been put in a position. Thrust into this life, but there is no out.” “None?” she asks.

I shake my head slowly. “Death is the only way.” “Death?” she breathes.

I lean forward, my eyes find hers and then my lips curve up into a small smile. “I’ve only seen one divorce in my entire life.”

She presses her lips together, then sucks down another gulp of vodka. She hisses, then she shakes her head.

“He didn’t steal me, you know?” she asks, her words slightly slurring.

“Yeah, Holland. He did. Stole you away from your life. Stole you away from everything and everyone. Married you, and he’s keeping you for himself. You’re his now.”

She shakes her head slowly. Her eyes focused on mine for a long moment before she speaks. “I am his,” she says, her words coming out long and drawn out, slow. “It wouldn’t have mattered how it happened. I think we were meant to be.”

Clearing my throat, I inhale a deep breath, then I let it out slowly. There is a moment of silence, a moment where we stare at one another. Then I chuckle.

“You’re gone, Holland. Completely gone.”

“I’m afraid that I am and I’m also afraid that I won’t ever be found.”

I stare at her. Watching her and wondering how in the fuck Danill could have stolen someone who wanted to be taken. Because that’s what I’m seeing with her. That’s what I’m getting. She fucking wanted Danill to steal her, to keep her, to own her.