23. Brooke
Once we’re back inside, I storm up the stairs to my room. Lev follows me and closes the door behind him.
“You can’t keep me here,” I yell at him.
“You’re right. That’s why you’re free to leave at any time.”
“Then why call the cops on me?”
“Like I said, you’re free to go… just not in my two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar car.”
“And involving the police was your way of showing me how they’re in your pocket, I suppose.”
He smiles. “How very astute of you.”
I’m so angry I could cry.
Get it together, Brooke.
“You’d really let me walk out of here?” I ask.
“I already let you walk out of here before. Saw you sneak across the hallway and down the stairs.”
“You saw that?”
“This house is full of eyes and ears. Nothing goes unnoticed.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “But you didn’t try to stop me.”
“On the contrary, when you decided to steal my car, that’s when I stepped in.”
“So if I ask to leave, you’d let me go? Just like that?”
He walks to the bedroom door and opens it. “Leave if you want to. I can have Igor drop you somewhere. Although, after the little stunt you pulled today, I’m not sure he’s going to be very happy with you. The Phantom is his pride and joy. He’s a little possessive, and you took it without his permission.”
I look at the open door.
It’s a trick.
Or Lev is driving home the point that despite being free to leave, there will be consequences to pay if I do.
“You will kill Wilson if I walk through that door.”
“There are always terms and conditions to any contract.” He smirks. “You have a choice, zayka. Stay or leave. If you stay, Wilson keeps his brain in his head. If you leave, well, I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”
I turn away from him, frustrated. My hands are tied. I pour myself a glass of water from the jug on the armoire beneath the bedroom window.
“So what happens now?” I turn back to look at him, resisting the urge to throw the glass and its contents at him. “Now that you have me backed into this corner?”
“You have too much time on your hands.” He walks toward me, adjusting the cuffs on one sleeve. He stops just short of where I’m standing, but he still towers over me. His scent engulfs me. “Maybe if I keep you occupied doing other things, you will be too busy to defy me.”
Images of his face buried between my thighs flash before my eyes, and lust sings in my blood.
“Not if the world were on fire,” I say between gritted teeth.
He scoffs as if he knows it’s a lie. And the worst part about it is, I think he might be right.
Suddenly lightheaded, I put down my glass of water and sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re really serious about this.”
Lev looks unfazed. “Like I said, every contract has its terms and conditions. You choose to stay, and this is what the conditions are.”
Out of nowhere, nausea hits like a wave, and I have to run to the bathroom to vomit. This is all too much.
I wretch again until my stomach is empty. God, why am I nauseated all the time? Oh, that’s right, I’ve been goddamn kidnapped.
Thankfully, Lev stays out of the bathroom, so I don’t have to suffer the indignation of him seeing me slumped on the floor with my head buried in the toilet.
Climbing to my feet, I drag myself over to the sink and splash cool water on my face. I rinse my mouth with water and then with the mouthwash I find in the medicine cabinet.
Feeling better, I walk back into the bedroom, where Lev is sitting in a wing-backed chair in the corner. He looks calm and collected as he waits.
“Feel better?” he asks.
I decide in that moment that I hate him. “Yes,” I manage through gritted teeth.
“And I take it that you’re staying?”
I can’t even speak to him I hate him so much. All I can do is nod.
“Good.” He stands. “Now get some rest. Tonight is our first public appearance as the happy couple. So I suggest you do whatever you need to do to make peace with it in your mind.”
He walks toward the door but stops.
“Oh, and one small thing you might do well to remember, Miss Masters… you break your half of the agreement, and it will force me to break mine.” He fixes me with those dark-as-night eyes. “And I can guarantee you, mine will hurt you more than what you could ever do to me.”
Lev leaves and I sit on the edge of the bed to try and process my new reality.
He really expects me to fake date him?
Oh boy, this situation just keeps getting better and better.
I lie down and sink my head into the impossibly soft pillow, my mind scrambling to process my new reality, my body heavy with exhaustion, and before I know it, I fall into a deep sleep.
It’s not until there is a knock on the door a few hours later that I wake up.
Sitting up, I watch as Enya walks in, carrying a dress on a hanger.
“Hi, Brooke.” She smiles sweetly, and her two dimples appear. “I’m here to help you get ready for the family dinner in town.”
Still dopey from sleep, I rub my palm into my eyes. “Family dinner?”
Ah yes, our first public appearance as the happy couple.
I climb off the bed, and Enya’s beautiful blue eyes sweep over my jeans and T-shirt. “It will be a formal dinner.”
I push my hands into my jeans pockets. “Right, I forgot.”
She lays the dress on the bed, then indicates for me to join her at the antique dresser where she begins to brush and style my hair.
“I imagine you’re going to have so much fun,” she gushes with an enthusiasm I wish I could share. “It’s being held for Mr. Zarkov’s uncle, and there will be lots of family there.”
Great, while I’m barely able to cope with one Zarkov, now I’m going to be in a room full of them.
Enya mistakes my lack of enthusiasm for nerves. “Oh, don’t worry, they’re really nice.”
“You’ve met them?”
“Not all of them. But Feliks and his brother, Maksim, are here a lot. So is their father Boris, he’s Lev’s uncle. It’s his birthday they’re celebrating tonight. There is another uncle, Vadim, but he doesn’t come to the house. I don’t think he and Lev get along. Well, according to the staff grapevine, anyway.”
“What else does the staff grapevine say about Mr. Zarkov?”
She smiles at me in the mirror. “You don’t need to worry about him. What you see is what you get.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
What I see is a monster.
“You mention his uncles, but what about his parents?”
Enya’s smile drops. “They’re both dead.”
I feel the words so profoundly because I know exactly how it feels to lose both your parents. I touch the owl charm on my bracelet. It’s a gut-wrenching loss that changes you.
“A car bomb almost twelve months ago,” Enya explains. “That’s why Lev became the pakhan.”
My hatred for Lev dampens slightly. He might be a monster. But I understand his pain.
“You must be very special for Mr. Zarkov to take you to such a family dinner,” she says, changing the subject as she weaves a strand of my hair around a curling wand. “He doesn’t usually attend with a plus one.”
“He doesn’t?”
She shakes her head. “Mr. Zarkov never has guests stay here either. You must be special.”
Special enough to kidnap.
She glances around to make sure no one is listening despite us being in a room by ourselves, and I realize there are probably cameras in the room. My eyes dart to the corners of the ceiling, where I see two of them. I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, Lev Zarkov isn’t exactly subtle in anything he does.
“I’ve heard what he calls you,” she says quietly. “Zayka.”
I nod. “He does. But you can spare me the translation. I’m sure it’s an insult.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh no. Zayka, translated into English, means little bunny.”
A strange warmth spreads through my chest. Little bunny. It’s kind of adorable. Which is a stark contrast to the cool aloofness of his royal highness, and for a moment, I feel my heart defrost because of it. But then I remember the coldness in his voice and the way he looked at me with absolutely no emotion when he told me our night was an error of judgment, and I’m reminded that feeling anything other than contempt for him would be very unwise.
Once my hair is done, Enya does my makeup. She keeps it minimal. Smoky eyes and lip gloss.
“There, all done. Shall we put on your dress? I hope you like it.” She picks up the dress off the bed and holds it up. “Mr. Zarkov picked it out himself. He made a call to one of the big design houses in the city.”
The dress is a gorgeous, dark-blue slip with spaghetti straps and a plunging back.
I sigh, resigned to my fate.
Play the game, Brooke. It might be a long one, but it will be worth it when you see his smug face behind bars.
Suddenly feeling more compliant, I let Enya help me into the dress.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” she says once it’s on. “It’s like it was made for you.”
I check my image in the mirror and smile at Enya whose sweet face is bright with a big smile.
She’s right. The dress is perfect. It’s also magical. Because for someone who has barely slept, it actually makes me look good.
Although the midthigh hem shows off a lot of leg.
“It’s not too short?” I ask.
“The lady on the arm of the pakhan has to make a statement.” She grins at me in the mirror. “And this dress makes a statement.”
“As long as that statement isn’t ‘Here kitty, kitty.’”
She giggles. “It’s not that short. Your modesty is in place.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her my modesty went out the door the day I met a strange man on a plane and then climbed on his cock repeatedly for the next twelve hours.
“Ready?” she asks.
“I think so.”
She smiles sweetly. “Mr. Zarkov has asked to meet you on the balcony before you leave.”
Probably to go over some more rules, no doubt.
I let out a shaky breath and remind myself why I am doing this.
Do as you’re told, and this will all be over soon.
You’ll go back to your life.
And Wilson will get to keep his brains inside his skull.