Chapter 17
SAVANNAH
My head is foggy, thoughts moving through molasses. The last thing I remember is Ledger telling me about Viktor Kozlov. About burning a body. About people who want to hurt me and our baby.
Then nothing.
I sit up too fast, and the room spins. I’m in Ledger’s penthouse. In his bedroom. The city sprawls outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and sunlight streams in, too bright.
How did I get here?
I’m still wearing my clothes from yesterday. Shoes off, but everything else intact. There’s a glass of water on the nightstand and a note.
You’re safe. I’m in my office. - L
Safe. Right. Because being kidnapped and dragged to a penthouse against my will is so safe.
I swing my legs out of bed and stand. The dizziness hits again, and I have to grip the nightstand until it passes. What the hell happened?
The bedroom door opens, and Ledger walks in. He’s in sweatpants and a T-shirt, hair damp like he just showered, looking infuriatingly calm.
“You’re awake,” he says. “How do you feel?”
“How do I feel?” My voice comes out sharp. “I feel like I was drugged and kidnapped. What the hell did you do to me?”
“You were becoming hysterical. Screaming. Crying. You tried to run, and I couldn’t let you leave. Not with Dmitri Kozlov out there.” He moves closer. “My doctor gave you something to calm down. Something safe for the baby.”
“You sedated me.”
“Yes.”
“Without my consent.”
“You weren’t in a state to give consent. You were a danger to yourself and our child.”
I stare at him, fury rising in my chest. “You can’t just drug people because they’re upset. That’s illegal. That’s—that’s kidnapping.”
“Call it what you want. You’re here, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
“Let me go.”
“No.”
“Ledger, I’m serious. Let me leave right now, or I’m calling the police.”
“Go ahead.” He gestures to my phone on the dresser. “Call them. Tell them your husband brought you to his home to protect you from a Russian crime family. See how that goes.”
I grab my phone, but my hands are shaking so hard I can barely hold it.
“You don’t get to do this,” I say. “You don’t get to control me like I’m some possession.”
“I’m not controlling you. I’m protecting you.” He hands me a glass of water. “Drink. You need to stay hydrated.”
I feel the urge to throw the glass at him, to scream and hit him, and make him understand how not okay this is. But I’m so tired. So dizzy. And despite everything, I’m thirsty.
I drink the water, and he watches me with those goddamn blue eyes.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Volkov,” he says quietly.
I look past him at the windows, at New York stretching below us. My apartment is somewhere out there. My life. My independence.
“This isn’t my home,” I say.
“It is now.”
My first escape attempt happens two hours later.
Marie comes in with breakfast, all smiles and kindness, and I wait until she’s setting down the tray to bolt for the door.
I make it three steps into the hallway before Pedro appears. He doesn’t have to touch me. He just stands there, blocking my path. “Mrs. Volkov,” he says politely. “Mr. Volkov would like you to stay inside.”
“Mr. Volkov should go fuck himself.”
“Understood. But you’re still not leaving.”
I try to push past him. He doesn’t budge.
Marie appears behind me. “Come back inside, dear. Your eggs are getting cold.”
I want to scream.
The second attempt is that afternoon. Antoine comes by to prep dinner, and when he leaves, I follow him to the elevator.
Pedro is already there, waiting. “Nice try,” he says.
The third attempt is that evening. I wait until everyone’s gone except the overnight security. Sneak out of the bedroom at 2:00 AM and head for the front door.
It’s locked. Some kind of electronic system that requires a code I don’t have.
I’m standing there, jiggling the handle like an idiot, when Ledger’s voice comes from behind me. “Going somewhere?”
I spin around. He’s in the doorway to his office, arms crossed, looking more tired than angry.
“I can’t stay here,” I say. “You can’t keep me locked up like a prisoner.”
“I can and I will. Until you understand the danger you’re in.”
“I understand plenty. You killed a man, and now his family wants revenge. But locking me up isn’t the answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.” He moves closer. “Dmitri Kozlov is patient. He’s been waiting five years for the perfect moment to strike. And now that you’re pregnant with my child, that moment has arrived.”
“So what? I’m just supposed to stay here forever?”
“Until the threat is eliminated, yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s reality.” He cups my face, and despite everything, I don’t pull away. “I know you’re angry. I know this feels like a prison. But I would rather have you alive and furious with me than dead because I gave you freedom you couldn’t protect.”
Tears burn my eyes. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I hate you for doing this.”
“I know that too.” He kisses my forehead. “But you’re still staying.”
By the third day, I’ve stopped trying to escape. Not because I’ve accepted this. But because every attempt ends the same way: Pedro blocking me, Marie gently guiding me back, Ledger looking at me with that infuriating mixture of patience and determination.
I spend most of my time on the balcony. It’s the only place that doesn’t feel like a cage. The only place where I can breathe.
I’m out there on the third evening, watching the sun set, crying for the hundredth time, when I hear the balcony door slide open.
“Mind if I join you?”
I turn and see Alexi. He’s in jeans and a hoodie, hands in his pockets, looking uncertain.
“Your father sent you to talk sense into me?”
“No. He doesn’t know I’m here.” Alexi sits in the chair next to mine. “I just thought you could use some company.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re crying on a balcony. You’re not.”
I wipe my face. “What do you want, Alexi?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Can I show you something?”
Before I can answer, he’s rolling up his sleeve. His forearm is covered in scars. Cut marks that form patterns, like someone took their time.
“Five years ago,” he says, “Viktor Kozlov kidnapped me. Held me for three days. He did this.” He traces one of the scars. “And worse. Things I don’t talk about.”
My stomach turns.
“He sent pictures to my dad. Videos. Wanted him to know exactly what was happening to me. Wanted him to feel helpless.” Alexi rolls his sleeve back down. “On the third day, Dad found me. Killed everyone in that warehouse. Carried me out himself.”
“He told me the story. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be grateful.” He looks at me. “Because without my dad, I’d be dead. Viktor would’ve killed me eventually, just to make a point. But Dad saved me. And then he made sure no one could ever do that to me again.”
“By burning Viktor’s body.”
“By eliminating the threat. Completely. Permanently.” Alexi leans forward. “Dmitri Kozlov is Viktor’s brother. And he’s been waiting for five years to get revenge. You know what he’ll do if he gets his hands on you?”
I don’t want to know. But Alexi tells me anyway.
“The Kozlovs don’t just kill people. They make examples. They would take you. Hurt you. And when they’re done hurting you, they’d cut the baby out of your stomach and send pieces to my dad. They’d make him watch you die slowly, painfully, knowing he couldn’t save you.”
I’m going to be sick.
“That’s what’s waiting for you out there,” Alexi says quietly. “That’s why Dad won’t let you leave. Not because he wants to control you. But because he’s terrified of what will happen if Dmitri finds you.”
“I can’t live like this,” I whisper. “I can’t be a prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner. You’re protected.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I know it sucks. I know it feels wrong. But my dad has never brought a woman home before. In twenty-two years, I’ve never seen him with anyone. Never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you.”
“He’s not alone. He has you.”
“That’s different. I’m his son. He has to love me.” Alexi smiles. “But you? He chose you. And for the first time in my entire life, I’ve seen him happy. Really, truly happy.”
Tears slide down my face again. “I’m scared.”
“I know. But you’re safe here. And when the threat is over, when Dmitri is dealt with, you’ll have your freedom back. I promise.”
“How long will that take?”
“I don’t know. But Dad’s working on it. And in the meantime, you’ve got a family. Me, Marie, Antoine. Even Pedro, though he’s kind of a scary dude.”
I burst into a laugh I can’t control. “He is pretty intimidating.”
“Right?” Alexi grins. “But he’s loyal. They all are. To my dad. And now to you.”
We sit in silence for a while, watching the city lights come on below us.
“I have nothing back in Chicago anyway,” I say finally.
“So you’ve got nothing tying you there.”
“Nothing.” I look at Alexi. “Just a life that’s already over.”
“Then start a new one. Here. With my dad. With the baby.” He stands. “Give him a real chance. Not because he’s keeping you here. But because he loves you. And you love him. I can see it, even when you’re angry with him.”
“I do love him,” I admit. “I just hate how he’s handling this.”
“Tell him that. Talk to him. He’s stubborn and overprotective and kind of a control freak, but he listens. Especially to you.”
After Alexi leaves, and I go back inside, Ledger is in the kitchen making tea. He looks up when I enter, and I see the exhaustion in his face.
“I’m still angry,” I say.
“I know.”
“But I’m going to try. To give this a chance. To trust that you’re doing this because you love me, not because you want to control me.”
He sets down the tea and crosses to me, pulling me into his arms. “Thank you.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t. I promise.”