Chapter 6 - Pippa
I lie in bed, angry with myself, and the world around me. Lev went through with his threat. The first day, when my food and water were delivered without a word, I thought he was just flexing his muscles. But then, two, three, four, five days passed by. Today marked the sixth. My room is a mess, and I’m losing all will to clean up after myself. There’s no TV, no books, no phone. The isolation is killing me, my mind playing tricks with itself.
Sometimes, a strange darkness overcomes me, showing me how doomed I am. My clients might have replaced me. If anyone noticed me missing, I wonder if they called the police. Or maybe I never mattered to them. My classes must be going on. I doubt any of my classmates would make note of my absence, and the professor’s, even if they tried, have no one on my emergency contact.
For the first time in my life, I understand the true depth of my loneliness.
Given how Lev Zolotov has put me in this position, I should hate him, curse him with every power I have. And yet, when the night comes around and I lie in bed, all I observe is how my body tenses with frustration from the memory of Lev's near-kiss still lingering like a ghost on my lips. My mind is playing a game of tug of war with itself. On one hand, it races with rage towards him, but on the other, it wishes he had carried out that threat.
He's everything I thought I despised—dangerous, arrogant, and clearly a criminal. Yet, why does my skin itch for his touch?
A memory rushes to mind. I was sixteen, in high school. Jad Davis and I were working on a school project together. He held my hand and told me he wanted to take me to the school dance that winter. I was over the moon. At last, I could have had a chance at my first love.
And then, three days before, after I’d already gotten my dress all sorted and spent hours debating which shoes to wear, I heard he was taking Emma Brown. Thinner, prettier, more popular Emma Brown.
I still remember the sting. I cried all night, and the next day, when I confronted him under the bleachers where he usually sat after practice, he could barely look me in the eye. “You’re amazing, Pippa,” he’d told me. “But the others on the football team are all going with cheerleaders.”
I never went to that school dance, and I also learnt a valuable lesson. Most people will deny themselves what they truly want because they fear what other people might think.
I wasn’t the obvious choice for a jock like Jad Davis. I was much more than the coveted size extra-small. I wasn’t blonde, I didn’t do my nails every weekend, and I loved to read. Because of all those things, Jad and I never had our chance, even though he and I both knew that we could never talk to another soul the way we spoke to each other. Kindred spirit is what he called me once. We belonged to each other in the confines of isolation, but Jad could never muster up the courage to take it public.
Maybe my skin itches now for Lev Zolotov because he’s everything Jad Davis is not and everything I secretly admire; a born leader who lets the world know he’s going to do what he wants, and they can either get on board with it or fuck off. He’s not confused by how I make him feel. He’s made his sentiments absolutely clear. He doesn’t hide in the shadows, cower in the face of opinion, or fear taking action.
He takes what he wants, guns blazing.
Yet, at the same time, he’s contradictorily sweet. I think about how he tried to comfort me when I pretended to cry and how amused he looks when I’m mad.
He’s always in control. Short-tempered, fiery, yet in control. He’s as alpha as it gets and so infuriatingly attractive that it makes me question my own sanity.
This whole thing is confusing. How can I revel in the thought of staying, when my whole life depends on getting out of here?
But, I’ve worked too hard to get where I am, and my future takes precedence. I don’t believe Lev is actually unnecessarily cruel. He only acted out of impulse in kidnapping me and hasn’t yet thought out his grand plan. He must know he can’t keep me here forever. I have a life to get back to. I have classes, exams, and a scholarship to uphold. I’m certain when this week is up, he will come revisit, to discuss those ‘privileges.’ That could be my last chance at an escape.
No matter how curious I am to explore where this thing might go, I can’t throw away everything I’ve worked for. This insane situation needs to change, and I need to shut down the crazy part of my brain telling me to stop fighting for an escape, and just make a run for it.
I toss and turn for hours, sleep evading me as my mind works overtime, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this mess. It isn't until the first rays of sunlight stream through the window that I finally drift off, exhaustion winning over my racing thoughts.
***
The week passes and the morning after, right on time as was promised, the door swings open. I sit up in bed, clutching the blankets tight around me. I’m wearing just a camisole and short shorts. No bra.
"Good morning, Sunshine!" Lev greets me, as though I haven’t just lived the week from hell. His mischievous smile is so infuriating, I want to wipe it off his face. But even as I clench my fists, I can't deny the way my heart races at the sight of him after all these days.
I can’t help but wonder, was it difficult for him to stay away from me? Did he think of me, as I did of him? Suddenly, my anger flares. He is the one in power, and he exploited that by taking away all of mine. I say nothing, just glare at him from my spot on the bed.
He lets the silence sit for a little longer, and I look away, turning my gaze towards the window.
"So, I've been thinking," he says. I turn back to see him leaning against the doorframe, blue-gray eyes locked onto mine. "The staff told me you’ve been on your best behavior. You didn’t cause any trouble, and some of the maids feel that this week of being locked in has taken a toll on you.”
He looks around the room, at the clutter, the uncleaned floors, the messy plates. “I think I agree. You’ve learned your lesson and I have full faith you won’t go breaking my rules anymore. So, I've decided to let you roam around the house a bit. How gracious of me, right?"
I literally bite down on my tongue to hold back the torrential anger threatening to spill out. What I want to say is that after kidnapping and forcing me to go almost crazy in solitary confinement, I feel like slapping that smile off his face.
Instead, I simply roll my eyes.
He notices my annoyance and walks closer with that arrogant stride of his. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to get too bored in here. Who knows what kind of trouble you'd cause then?"
“Exactly how much trouble can I get into in this room?” I wave my arm around, stopping at the barricaded window. In this motion, the blanket slides down my body, and I notice his gaze follow its trail, pausing for a second longer at the parts where my nipples peak out through my camisole.
I quickly fold my arms in front of me, pretending he didn’t notice my state of undress. The gentleman in him quickly looks back up, his eyes honing in on mine.
“Oh, I won’t make the mistake of underestimating you again,” Lev smirks, clearly not buying my act. "But if you must know, I'm just trying to make your stay here more… pleasant." The way he says 'pleasant', his eyes shifting to my lips, down my cleavage, before starting back up, sends a shiver down my spine.
"Fine," I concede, deciding I’ve played hard-to-please a little too long now. "Let's see what this prison of yours has to offer." My heart races with anticipation as I think of the possibility of finding a way out while exploring the house. This is just what I wanted, and to see Lev deliver gives me hope at last. I can get back to my life, once I’m out of here.
"Excellent," Lev grins, stepping aside and gesturing for me to step out of bed. "Get dressed.”
I sit there in bed, suddenly thinking about how I’m hardly wearing any clothes. He’s still watching me, innocently enough. I clear my throat and part my lips, but no words come out. What should I say? Hi, Lev? I’m shy? Please turn around?
What am I? A teenager?
I take a deep breath and throw aside the blanket. I notice the sudden shuffle in Lev’s expression, from annoying arrogance to endearing humility, as he quickly takes in the thin straps of my camisole, the curve of my thighs. He quickly turns and walks to the window, pretending to inspect something.
But I know that the sight of me affected him, somehow. In the same manner, the thought of him seeing me half-naked excited me.
I head into the shower, all the while thinking I wish he watched me walk away. I wonder if he feels the heat crawl down his spine, as it does up my legs right now. That same confusion hits me like a truck. I can’t be having such feelings for him, when I’m supposed to deceive him again.
I command myself to think of escape, and not Lev. It’s a command I have to remind myself of over and over again, because his smothering gaze keeps creeping into my mind, goddamnit.
When I’m done showering, I shut off the running water and put on my towel, only to realize I didn’t bring my clothes in. Shit. This turn of events does nothing for my resolve. Again, I think of Lev. Who is right outside…where my clothes are.
Keeping my expression neutral, I exit the shower with just my towel wrapped around me. But inside, I’m a whole and utter nervous wreck. I know it shouldn’t matter what he thinks of me, but I don’t exactly have that model-esque figure I can proudly flaunt off.
Lev sits waiting on my bed and looks up from his phone when he hears the door creaking. I blush as his eyes draw over to my body. His gaze lingers a little too long on my well-rounded bare legs, causing the heat in my cheeks to deepen. I quickly grab my clothes and rush back into the bathroom to get dressed.
By the time I return, fully dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, he’s standing by my open bedroom door. His gaze trails over me again, from my face, to my neck, to my legs and his face breaks into a smile. “Considering all things,” he says, his voice gravelly. “The towel was a better look on you.”
Wait, what? Did he just say that out loud to me? My mouth hangs open, unable to find the right words as my neck turns red from how shy I suddenly feel.
“I’d close that mouth, before a fly gets in,” he tells little old gaping me.
I immediately close my mouth and shake my head. I have to force myself to say something, before he becomes overconfident about his ability to influence me. “You really know how to take a moment and turn it into trouble, don’t you?”
“Trouble’s my middle name,” he shrugs, as I join him by the door.
“Alright, Lev Trouble Zolotov,” I say, turning to face him. “Show me your house.”
"Remember, Pippa," Lev warns as we step out of my room, his voice a low rumble down my spine that makes me shiver involuntarily. "You can roam the house, but that doesn't mean you can just waltz out the front door. Everything is locked.”
"Thanks for the reminder," I retort, rolling my eyes. "As if I could forget with your goons lurking around every corner." My heart races with determination at the thought of finding a way out despite the obstacles he's set.
"Feisty as always," Lev chuckles, following me as I make my way down the grand hallway. The house is enormous, with high ceilings and richly decorated walls. It's breathtaking, really, but I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm impressed.
"Where do you suggest we start?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. "I assume there are certain rooms I'm not allowed in?"
"It’s all for you to explore, barring my office. My bedroom’s locked, but if you like, I can give you a tour," Lev smirks, his stormy blue-gray eyes narrowing playfully.
Heat crawls down my neck at the thought of him showing me around his bedroom . I look away, not wanting him to see the effect he has on me.
“A tour of your bedroom? Hard pass. It’s probably a mess, like yourself,” I reply, shooting him a pointed look. "And personally? I'd rather clean out a septic tank."
Lev laughs, his deep chuckle filling the hallway. "You're quite the charmer, Pippa. But you don't know what you're missing." He winks, and my cheeks flush despite my best efforts to remain composed.
"Anyhoo,” he whistles, taking a step back from me now. “Feel free to explore anywhere else. Perhaps you'll even find something worth your while. Now, I’ll be leaving you to catch up on some work. The kitchen’s down the right of the hallway up front, in case you’re hungry for breakfast.”
He leaves me with a little nod, and I watch him walk away to his office. For a second, I wish he’d have stuck around to show me the place.
You’re being silly, Pippa, the rational side of my brain screams at me.
My curiosity piqued, I wander through the house, taking in the opulent surroundings. As beautiful as everything is, it only serves to remind me how out of place I am here.
Eventually, I stumble upon the library, and my heart skips a beat. The room is massive, with shelves upon shelves of books stretching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. It's a sanctuary—one I could easily lose myself in for hours.
I’ve been bored sick. A book could help.
I explore the shelves and come across a non-fiction section filled with books on crime and criminology. My eyes scan the titles, and I catch my breath as I see one on access codes and lock-picking techniques. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can barely contain my excitement. Is this really happening? Have I just stumbled upon the key to my freedom?
I grab it and find the nearest couch, ready to read every damn page if I have to.
***
My heart races with anticipation as I close the book, having understood the basics. Ideally, I need a tension wrench, but if I don’t have one, I can use a paperclip, or a hairclip to break a lock.
I pull out the hairclip I have on and hold it in my hand. This one innocent clip is now my most prized possession.
I exit the library and walk through the house until I reach the main door. But when I reach it, I pause.
What the hell am I thinking? I can’t just pick the lock to the main door and walk out. The place might be swarming with guards.
Feeling like I just faced a setback, I decide to walk away. I walk aimlessly, my mind in a loop, and soon realize I find myself outside the kitchen. I’m standing in a dark room filled with groceries, crockery, and more. It’s some sort of huge pantry.
If I walk a little ahead, I’ll enter the kitchen.
And I want solace.
I stand in the open pantry, close my eyes and lean against the wall next to a large crockery cabinet. Think, Pippa. Think. There must be more ways in and out of the house, and I need to find one that’s not being watched.
I make a list of all the exits that could exist. I chew on my bottom lip, mentally calculating the possibilities. As I mull over my options, a concealed wooden door just opposite me catches my eye. There are no shelves on it. My heart skips a beat—could this be my ticket out? A loading door, perhaps?
A house this large must have an entry and exit for supplies. Have I just accidentally found it?
With cautious steps, I approach the door, listening keenly for any signs of movement on the other side. I hear none, but see cracks of light peering in through the wooden slits.
Oh my god. Right beyond this door lies my escape.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I grip the hairclip tightly in my hand and break it into two. I insert the tip from one into the bottom of the keyhole and apply pressure to my right, the direction in which a key would move. Then, I take the other half and put it into the top of the keyhole, gently lifting each wafer one at a time, while maintaining pressure at the bottom.
My brow beads with sweat. I pray under my breath, hoping no one sees me. After what feels like an eternity, I hear that sweet, coveted click.
My heart soars with ecstasy. I could sing and dance at this very moment. But, I still have a long way to freedom.
Adrenaline surges through my veins as I push the door open, expecting to step into the morning air and make my escape. But instead, I find myself face-to-face with Lev's men, their expressions a mixture of amusement and disappointment.
"Going somewhere?" one of them smirks, grabbing my arm tightly.
"Let go of me!" I hiss, trying to yank my arm free. But my attempts are futile, and they quickly bind my wrists together behind my back.
"Lev's not going to be happy about this," another man comments as they lead me back into the house, their grip unyielding.
I could seriously kick myself. I shouldn’t have tried to escape during the day, I should have waited until it was nighttime!
As we enter Lev’s office, his dark eyes burn with anger. His jaw is clenched, and I can feel the fury rolling off him in waves. “What’s going on?” he asks as he notices my hands are bound behind me.
“She picked the lock to the pantry room, Boss. Tried to run. We were right outside.”
He dismisses his men with a curt wave of his hand, and they leave us alone, shutting the door behind them.
"Did you really think you could just walk out of here?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
"I had to try," I reply, defiant. "You can't expect me to just accept being your prisoner without putting up a fight."
"You need to stop this madness, Pippa," Lev scoffs, walking circles around me like a predatory animal.
"Trying to escape is not madness," I snap back, trying to keep my voice steady despite my nerves. "But what you’re doing to me is!”
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I fear I've pushed him too far. But then he steps behind me, his fingers expertly working at the knots binding my wrists together.
"Maybe you have more fight in you than I thought," he admits begrudgingly, his warm breath ghosting over my neck, and sending down a series of goosebumps.
The tension between us is palpable as Lev's nimble fingers work on the knots binding my wrists. The heat of his body radiates against mine, and I can't help but shiver at the way his fingers graze my ass with each motion.
"Stop it," I snap, trying to regain some semblance of control in this situation. "You're doing that on purpose."
"Am I?" he teases, his voice low and husky, causing an unwanted flutter in my chest. But I refuse to let him see how much he's affecting me.
"Untie these ropes and get your hands off me," I demand, my voice wavering only slightly. He chuckles, but finally, he pulls the last knot free, and my hands are my own again. I flex my fingers, rubbing away the lingering soreness.
"Fine, you're free," he smirks, taking a step back. "Now what?"
I square my shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. "I need to go to classes. I have a scholarship to maintain, and I can't afford to lose it because of this… whatever this is."
"Can't you just study here?" he suggests.
"I won’t get a degree educating myself now, would I? Some things require in-person attendance." I roll my eyes at him.
“Did you just… roll your eyes at me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, laughter playing on his lips.
“Well, yes!” I cross my arms in front of me. “You’re so entitled, Lev Zolotov. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, with a life of such luxury and power that you’d never understand what it’s like to have to fight your way up.” I point around at his office. “I don’t have a family to support me. I can barely make ends meet. I work, morning to night, that is before you kidnapped me, just to pay rent. I’m a scholarship student and if I mess this opportunity up, I will never get another chance like this again. Don’t you understand? My education is important to ME!” I scream at him.
He says nothing, the silence lulling me to find my voice again. In near whisper, I beg, “I could lose everything, and I have no future, unless if I get the chance to build it…please.”
He studies me for a moment, his eyes glaring into mine. There’s a tense silence in the air, and I begin to regret ever having raised my voice. For a second there, I forgot I am his prisoner.
If I make him angry, there could be serious consequences. My heart pounds in my chest and I open my mouth, prepared to apologize for my outburst, but to my surprise, he speaks first.
"Fine. You can go to your classes. But I'll be sending one of my men with you. No arguments."
I’m about to say thank you when the rest of the sentence hits me.
"Really? A babysitter? Am I in kindergarten?" I shake my head.
"Think of it as a bodyguard," he corrects. "What if someone else tries to take you while you're out there?"
"Unlikely," I mutter.
“No,” he roars at me, taking me by surprise. “Not unlikely. I know you think I’m dangerous, Pippa. But I have enemies. If Lenny Ramsey told a soul about how I kidnapped you, word would have spread. You’re probably on my enemies’ radar, and if they find you alone, they could take you and use you to learn secrets about us, The Zolotovs. If you think you have it bad now, just wait until you fall into the hands of the wrong crowd,” he tells me, rage flickering in his eyes, an edge of protectiveness etched into each word.
I flinch at his sudden outburst, the intensity of his warning sinking in. Despite the anger and defiance I've held onto, there's a flicker of something else in Lev's eyes—genuine concern. It catches me off guard, and for a brief moment, I see a different side to him, a man fiercely protective of those he claims as his own.
"I… I never thought of it that way," I say reluctantly. "But if your guy interferes with my education in any way, I'm holding you responsible."
"Fair enough," Lev agrees, and there's a hint of respect in his eyes that makes me feel a strange sense of accomplishment. Maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to get through to him.