CHAPTER 42
ILAY
I carry her inside the house, her head resting against my chest, her breathing soft and even from the chloroform. She looks peaceful like this.
The house is exactly as I requested. Massive. Isolated. Surrounded by dense forest on all sides. The nearest neighbor is miles away. No one will hear her if she screams. No one will find her unless I want them to.
Perfect.
My men are already inside, moving through the space. I hired a team to furnish it yesterday. Modern but comfortable. Nothing too cold. I want her to be comfortable here.
“Sir,” victor says, appearing at my side. “Everything is ready. The kitchen is fully stocked. Security system is operational and multiple Guards are positioned around the perimeter.”
“Good,” I say, adjusting my grip on Iris. “I want two men on rotation at all times. No one comes in or out without my permission. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And get someone to prepare the master bedroom with fresh sheets. Make sure it’s warm. She’s been living in that tiny apartment with terrible heating.”
He nods and disappears. I carry her up the stairs, taking my time. She’s lighter than I expected. Or maybe I’m just that desperate to hold her.
The master bedroom is large, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forest. The bed is king-sized, covered in soft white linens. There’s a fireplace in the corner, already lit and crackling with warmth.
I lay her down gently, brushing her hair away from her face. God, she’s beautiful.
I sit on the edge of the bed, just watching her. Her chest rises and falls steadily. Her lips are slightly parted. There’s a small crease between her eyebrows, like she’s dreaming about something that bothers her.
Probably me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, but it’s not mine. It’s hers. I must’ve grabbed it when I put her in the car. The screen lights up with notifications. So many notifications.
Dad (15 missed calls)
Roman (8 missed calls)
Kirill (12 missed calls)
Dad: Iris, call me back immediately.
Dad: Where are you? The driver says you never showed up.
Dad: IRIS.
Roman: Pick up your phone.
Kirill: If you’re trying to scare us, it’s not funny.
I scroll through the messages, my jaw tightening with satisfaction.
They’re panicking. Good. Let them panic.
Let them realize they can’t protect her. That they never could.
I block all their numbers one by one, watching each contact disappear. Delete the messages. Then I scroll through her contacts, looking for anyone else who might be a problem.
There’s not much. A few coworkers from the café. Tessa, still in the hospital in Russia. Some lawyer colleagues from her old firm.
No one who matters. No one who can take her from me. I turn off her phone completely and slip it into my pocket. She won’t need it anymore. I stand, shrugging off my jacket and draping it over a chair. Then I unbutton my shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. My pants follow.
I’m exhausted. Two days of planning, and coordinating, making sure everything went perfectly. And it did, I have her in my arms once again. I climb into bed beside her, pulling the covers over both of us. I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her against my chest. Noting how she fits perfectly.
I bury my face in her hair, breathing in her sweet scent. “I love you,” I whisper against her skin. “I know you’re angry. I know you hate me right now. But I love you. And I’m never letting you go again.” I say to her unresponsive sleeping form.
I close my eyes and let myself relax for the first time in weeks.
***
I wake up to the feeling of her shifting beside me. My eyes open immediately, my body tensing out of instinct. She’s stirring. Her head moves slightly against the pillow, and then her eyes flutter open.
For a moment, she just stares at the ceiling, confusion written all over her face. Then she turns her head and sees me. Her eyes widen. Her breath catches in her throat.
“Good morning, angel,” I say softly. She scrambles backward so fast she almost falls off the bed. I catch her wrist, pulling her back toward me.
“Let me go!” she shouts, yanking against my grip with surprising strength. “Angel, calm down…”
“Calm down?” she screams, her voice rising to a pitch that makes me wince. “You kidnapped me! You drugged me! Where the hell am I?”
“Germany,” I say calmly, keeping my grip firm but not painful. “About an hour outside Solingen. In a house I bought for us.”
“For us?” she repeats, her voice going even higher. “There is no us! You kidnapped me!”
“I brought you home,” I correct, my tone patient.
“This isn’t my home!” I sigh, releasing her wrist. She immediately scrambles to the other side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as the mattress allows.
“You can’t keep me here,” she says, her voice shaking with fear and anger. “My family will find me. They’ll…”
“No, they won’t,” I say simply, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. “I made sure of that.”
“They’ll look for me. They’ll tear this country apart looking for me.”
“They can try,” I interrupt, my voice still calm.
“But they won’t find you, pluse they aren’t exactly in the good graces of the German mafia.
This house is registered under a shell company.
There’s no paper trail leading back to me.
And even if they somehow figured out where you are, they’d have to get through my men first. Dozens of them. All armed and loyal.”
“This is kidnapping. This is illegal.”
“So is half the shit your father does,” I point out reasonably. “But you don’t seem to have a problem with that.”
“That’s different,” she snaps.
“How?”
“Because he’s my father!”
“And I’m the man who loves you,” I say, my voice softening. “The man you admitted you love too. Or did you forget that part?” She flinches like I’ve slapped her. “That doesn’t give you the right to kidnap me.”
“Maybe not,” I concede with a slight shrug. “But I did it anyway. My love, I’m done waiting. I’m done being patient. I’m done pretending I can live without you.”
She wraps her arms around herself, her eyes filling with tears that she’s fighting to hold back. “We’re toxic for each other, Ilay. We destroy everything we touch.”
“So?”
“So?” she repeats, her voice incredulous. “So that’s not healthy! That’s not love!”
“It’s both,” I say firmly. “And I don’t care which one it is as long as you’re mine.”
She shakes her head frantically, her hair falling across her face. “I can’t do this. I can’t be with you. Not like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want a normal life!” she shouts, her voice breaking. “I want peace! I don’t want to be part of this world. The violence, the blood, the constant danger. I just want to be a lawyer. I want to wake up every morning without worrying about who’s trying to kill who. I don’t want this!”
“But you love me,” I say softly, watching her carefully. “That’s not enough!” she cries, tears finally spilling over. “Love isn’t enough when you’re threatening to kill my family. When you’re dragging me into a war I want nothing to do with. When you’re kidnapping me and drugging me and…”
Her voice breaks completely, and she starts crying in earnest. I move toward her, but she holds up her hand.
“Don’t,” she says through her tears. “Don’t come near me.”
I stop, respecting her boundary for now. For a moment, we stare at each other across the bed.
“We can’t go back to Russia yet,” I say finally, changing the subject. She blinks, confused through her tears. “What?”
“I got word from my sources. Your father set a trap. He knows I’m here in Germany. If I go back now, I’m walking straight into an ambush.”
“Good,” she says bitterly, wiping at her face. “Maybe he’ll kill you and end this nightmare.” I smile despite myself. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t. Because if I died, you’d be devastated. Admit it.” She glares at me but doesn’t respond, which is answer enough.
“We’ll stay here for a week,” I continue, as if we’re discussing vacation plans. “Maybe two. Until I can figure out how to handle the property situation and the handover. Once that’s done, we’ll go to Russia. And we’ll get married.”
“Married?” she repeats, her voice going high with disbelief. “You think I’m going to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Not if it’s going to be your reality.” I respond.
She stands up, pacing the room like a caged animal. “I need to leave. I need to get out of here.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the doors are locked. The windows are reinforced. And there are guards everywhere. You’re not going anywhere, Iris.” She spins around, her eyes wild with panic. “So what? I’m your prisoner now?”
“You’re my guest,” I correct. “A very well-taken-care-of guest.”
“A prisoner,” she insists. I stand up, walking toward her slowly. She backs away until she hits the wall. “Look around, angel,” I say, gesturing to the room. “This house is beautiful. It’s big. You have everything you could possibly need. Security. Comfort. Me.”
“I don’t want you,” she whispers. “Yes, you do,” I say, leaning in close enough to feel her breath. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
“We’re toxic,” she says again, like it’s a mantra. “We’ll destroy each other.”
“Then we’ll burn together,” I say. “I don’t care. As long as we’re together.”
“You want to kill my family,” she says, fresh tears streaming down her face. “You’ve said it. Multiple times. You’ve tried to kill my father. How am I supposed to be with someone who wants to destroy everyone I love?”
“I’ll make an exception,” I say. “For you.”
“An exception?”
“I won’t kill them,” I say, meaning it. “As long as they don’t try to take you away from me. And accept that you’re mine. I’ll leave them alone.”
She stares at me, searching my face for the lie. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. You hate them. You’ve always hated them.”
“I do,” I admit without hesitation. “But I love you more. And if keeping them alive makes you happy, then fucking fine, they’ll live to shit again”