Chapter Nineteen
My eyes fluttered as a slight wince escaped my lips. The back of my head was throbbing, and my eyes seemed too heavy. Consciousness came back slowly, in pieces, like wading up through something thick and dark toward a surface I couldn’t quite see yet.
The first thing I registered was the sheets.
Cool. Impossibly soft, the kind of fabric that didn’t exist anywhere in my actual life. It wasn’t cotton. No. It was something finer, something that whispered against my skin when I shifted instead of catching on it.
My own apartment had a comforter from a clearance rack and a fitted sheet that had pilled from too many washings. This felt like lying inside a cloud someone had spent a small fortune perfecting.
My head still throbbed, and that dull, heavy ache behind my eyes remained. There was a chemical aftertaste clinging to the back of my throat that made my stomach turn before I’d even opened my eyes.
I opened them anyway.
The ceiling above me was high—higher than any ceiling had a right to be in a residential space. It had exposed wooden beams running across it in a pattern that looked deliberate and expensive.
A chandelier hung from its center, its warm glow making my eyes squint as they adjusted to the brightness.
I pushed myself up, every muscle protesting, and the room came into focus around me.
It was enormous.
My entire apartment—kitchen, bedroom, the cramped little bathroom with the shower curtain that never quite closed all the way—could have fit inside this single room, with space left over.
That was how massive the room was.
The bed I was lying in sat low and wide on a dark-wood frame, easily large enough for four people. It was dressed in layers of white and pale gray linen that looked as if they’d been arranged by someone with actual training in such matters.
Heavy curtains, the color of dark slate, hung floor to ceiling along one entire wall, drawn mostly closed but letting in a thin seam of light at the center.
Across from the bed was a fireplace. An actual fireplace, built into stone that looked original rather than decorative, cold and empty now but clearly functional. It was flanked by built-in shelving holding books.
A seating area occupied the far corner; two armchairs upholstered in something that looked like velvet, the deep green of old money, angled toward a low table with nothing on it.
Through an open doorway to my left, I could see the edge of what looked like a private bathroom. Fine marble was visible even from this distance, the kind of clean, cold luxury that made my chest tighten instead of relax.
Everything in the room was beautiful in a deliberate way. It was as though every object had been chosen to convey something specific about the person who owned it.
I sat very still in the center of that enormous, gorgeous bed, my heart starting to climb toward something close to panic as the last of the chemical haze cleared from my head.
At this point, the actual facts of my situation began arranging themselves with horrible clarity. My memories returned in a flash, and my eyes widened in fear.
I remembered everything that happened at my apartment—the three men who broke into my place in the middle of the night and kidnapped me.
Fuck. I’d been kidnapped.
The realization hit me so hard I practically felt my heart sink into my stomach.
“You’re awake,” a familiar voice said softly. “Good.”
My head snapped sideways in the direction of the speaker, and my breath hitched.
It was him.
It was the man responsible for my mental health issues.
“You!” I growled, jumping off the bed with a racing heart. “What is this? Where am I? Why did you kidnap me?” The words rushed out in a panicked rush.
He was seated on a sofa beside the bed I was lying on with his legs crossed. His dark hair was combed to perfection as always, his polished shoes catching the chandelier’s warm glow. His impeccably tailored black suit fit him perfectly, highlighting his muscles and broad shoulders.
“What do you want with me?!” I barked, a mix of fear and anger coursing through my blood.
He slowly rose to his feet. “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt you…”
“Stay back!” I balled my fists, taking a semi-fighting stance like I stood a chance against him.
He stopped in his tracks, brows raised as though he thought I was being ridiculous. “Aria, it’s me.”
“You, who?” I demanded, my scowl deepening. “Who the fuck are you? Because at this point, I don’t even know who I’m dealing with.”
Silence.
“Who am I talking to, huh? Anton? R.T.?”
“Rodion,” he said. “Rodion Tarasov.”
I swallowed hard, fists shaking as I held them up in front of me. “You lied to me. Why?”
“You need to get some rest,” he said. “The drug in your system needs time to…”
“Don’t do that!” I snapped at him, veins lining my forehead. “Don’t you fuckin’ do that—don’t you try to avoid my question like you always do—don’t you fuckin’ dare!” Tears stung my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall.
Silence.
“Now, let’s try this again,” I said, my voice lowered this time. “Why did you lie to me?”
“Because it was the only way to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
He picked up his pace, his footsteps slow and measured. “You saw something at Meridian Solutions. And by the law of our brotherhood, you weren’t supposed to live.”
My throat suddenly went dry, my pulse racing by the second.
“I needed to confirm that you weren’t a threat to our organization…”
“Is that why you approached me with a fake identity?”
He stopped in front of me. “Pretty much.”
I looked him right in the eyes and asked, “Was fucking me also part of the plan to ‘protect’ me?”
He paused, something unnamed flashing across his face like my question had landed harder than he expected.
“That was…”
“A mistake that was never supposed to happen,” I completed the statement for him.
Silence.
“You said you wanted to confirm if I was a threat or not,” I said, my gaze unwavering. “So, tell me, ‘Rodion,’ do you think I’m a threat?”
“Not really…”
“It’s a yes or a no,” I interrupted, my voice firm and steady. “Am I a threat to your brotherhood?”
He hesitated, then said calmly, “No.”
“Then why did you send your men to kidnap me?”
Silence.
“I don’t like it here, Rodion, or Anton—or whatever your name is—so let me go.”
His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, the kind that did something to me I was too ashamed to admit.
I hated how badly his intoxicating scent was affecting me. How even in such a serious and defining moment, I still thought he was super hot and sexy.
He closed the distance between us without touching me, his intimidating gaze making me weak in the knees.
“I’ve been lenient with you from the beginning, Aria Bennett. But make no mistake, things could turn ugly for you real fast if you do not cooperate.”
My expression darkened in a bid to hide the fear his cold words had just inflicted in me. “Is that a threat?” I questioned, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Are you threatening me?”
“You wouldn’t still be looking me in the eyes if I were.” His response was even colder, his gaze so intense I almost wet myself.
His steel-gray eyes swept over my body like he was assessing me from head to toe. “Get some rest,” he whispered, his fresh breath warm against my face. “I’ll be back to check on you.”
I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath this whole time until he stepped away from my private space.
He was almost at the door when I called out after him.
“You can’t keep me here forever.”
He glanced back at me.
“I’ll find a way out.”
A faint grin tugged at his lips. “Good luck with that.”
I seethed in silence, watching him exit the room.
By the time I rushed over to the door, it was already closed—locked from the outside.
I banged on it for a moment before deciding to check the window.
When I parted the curtains, I realized I was at least five stories high. Jumping down would be suicide.
Frustrated, I strolled over to the bed and sat on the edge, face buried in my palms. My heart was heavy, my head was full, and my anxiety was spiking. The way he turned so cold so suddenly scared me in a way I didn’t know was possible.
For a second there, I couldn’t recognize him in his true form. Anton was never real. The kind, charming man from the café was just a made-up character who’d already been killed off by his creator.
All that was left was Rodion Tarasov, the Mafia boss who had me kidnapped and locked up in this gilded cage.
I combed my fingers through my hair, confused and afraid at the same time.
Anton was tolerable even though he was a liar.
Rodion, on the other hand, was on an entirely different level of evil.
Money laundering, racketeering, and so on.
Anton, I could deal with. Anton, I understood.
But not Rodion. I had no idea what he had planned for me, and that uncertainty rattled every nerve in my body.
I’d asked why he had me kidnapped, but men like him didn’t need a reason for anything.
This was the same man who followed me for weeks, carefully removed me from sticky situations, and then likely bugged my place. He wasn’t my guardian angel—he was my stalker.
It could’ve been worse, you know, said Reason. He could’ve thrown us in a cell in his basement. Instead, he brought us here—a spacious room with a comfy bed and a TV.
Let’s call it what it is—it’s a gilded cage, Audacity chipped in. We clearly aren’t allowed beyond these walls.
It’s still better than rotting in a basement with rats as our roommates.
As the voices in my head kept going back and forth as usual, I lay back on the bed, staring blankly into space. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the chances of Rodion letting me go were next to zero.
I’d witnessed a crime he committed, and I knew his true identity. That was why he had me taken—because I finally figured out who he was. This whole time, he never made a move to abduct me because I was still in the dark. But the second I found out the truth, he removed me from public space.
At this point, I wasn’t even sure anyone would ever find me here. My friends would notice I’d disappeared and call the cops. However, the authorities wouldn’t be able to do much because men like Rodion Tarasov had people even in the police force.
One word from him, and the case would be shut down. Then everyone would be back to square one.
That was when I realized how much of a mess I was in and the gravity of my situation. I was in trouble. Deep trouble, and no one was coming to save me.
The only solution was to find a way to escape this place—wherever this place was.
But even if, by some miracle, I managed to run away, where could I hide in the world so that he wouldn’t find me?