Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
GEORGIA
“Rise and shine, Georgia,” a female voice singsongs above me.
Light floods the room, assaulting my eyes before I’m even fully awake.
I groan and press my face into the pillow, an attempt to block out reality for a little longer.
I slept fitfully last night. Every time I closed my eyes, the stress of the day would wash over me, jolting me awake.
Sleep only came in the wee hours of the morning.
But alas, this overly cheerful creature standing by the bed will not be dissuaded. “Come on, there’s coffee. You Americans love your coffee first thing in the morning.”
I roll over to get a good look at my tormentor. Standing over me is a petite woman in her early sixties, by the looks of it. She's not wearing a uniform, but she definitely has a professional air about her, with stylish glasses, and silver hair pulled back into a chignon.
If I close my eyes and pray hard enough, I wonder if she’ll go away.
“I’m afraid not.” She chuckles and I realize I spoke that last thought out loud. “I’m Natalia Kashin and I work for the Kozlovs. Andrei has requested that I help you get settled in.”
Settled in? As if I am enjoying a stay at a high-end resort. These people are too much.
I sit up, curiosity chasing away the worst of my drowsiness. Settling in is precisely the last thing I plan on doing. I’ve woke with a newfound determination to get the hell out of here.
“Is Andrei, er, Mr. Kozlov available this morning?” I ask.
She smiles. “You can call him Andrei. He’s not one for formalities.
” She checks her watch and as she does, another member of the household staff opens the door and wheels in a platter of food.
Breakfast, I assume, from the delicious smells wafting towards me.
“Andrei is attending to business matters today, but I’ll let him know you want a word when he’s back.
” Another bright smile. I’d like to know why she is so damn happy working for a bunch of lethal mobsters?
“I am here to assist you with anything you may need,” she continues. “I’ve taken the liberty of having breakfast delivered. I imagine you are hungry.”
My rumbling tummy is answer enough. Natalia claps her hands together, redirecting my attention back to her.
“I didn’t know what you like, so I made sure we have a bit of everything.
” At the foot of the bed, stainless steel plates lift to reveal a selection of delicacies.
Natalia waves her hand over the spread. “We have smoked fish served on potato pancakes; Russian black bread and fresh butter; syrniki, which is a pancake made with cheese and fruit preserves; and my very favorite, sharlotka, a simple apple cake.”
The strangeness of this situation hits me in the gut. Why does it feel like I am on vacation at some luxury resort, rather than being held captive? Gorgeous surroundings, plush bedding, a new wardrobe, and breakfast delivered to my room. With coffee!
I shake my head. The accommodation might be five-stars, but I’m still a prisoner here, and I won’t be dazzled into complacency.
Emerging from the bed, I wrap myself in a robe that Natalia is holding out for me. She motions for me to sit in a chair at a small table in the corner. Loading up a plate on my behalf, she places it in front of me along with the promised cup of coffee, then goes back to make one for herself.
Everything looks incredible. I don’t even bother trying to make small talk. I dive right in, savoring every bite.
Natalia grins at me. “What do you think?”
“It’s amazing,” I say between mouthfuls. I’ve never tried Russian food before, even when I lived at Oleg’s house, and I’m pleasantly surprised, but I don’t want Natalia to think a tasty meal is enough to make me stick around. “But I miss cooking for myself and my dad. I really miss my father.”
“Of course,” she responds sympathetically, but says nothing else, making me wonder how much she knows.
“So,” I ask carefully, “what kind of work do you do here?”
She bites into a piece of pancake and chews thoughtfully. “A bit of everything. I take care of administrative work for the Kozlov family and help to run the household. And now Andrei asked me to take care of you.”
“Why? I won’t be here long, and I don’t need to be taken care of.”
She tilts her head. “We’ll see.”
I don’t waste my breath arguing with her. It’s Andrei that I need to convince… or more likely, escape from.
“Fine,” I say, crumpling my napkin and pushing my plate away. “So what’s your deal? How did you come to work for a deadly gang of mobsters?”
She gives me a patient smile as she regards me through the steam of her tea.
“After their mother died, I was brought on as the boys’ governess, helping to raise them.
Now that they are older, they’ve kept me on to serve in another way.
Their business dealings are no concern of mine, and neither should they be yours,” she says, with a pointed look.
A million questions dance on the tip of my tongue: What happened to their mother?
What was it like to raise future mafia kings?
What led to the Kozlov/Antonov feud? But she heads me off at the pass, placing her cutlery down beside her, and saying, “If you’re finished with breakfast, I can show you around the property, and then—”
“What!?” I shake my head, unsure if I’ve heard her properly. “I’m not being chained up in this room?”
She shrugs. “That depends on you. Act like a guest, and we’ll treat you like a guest. Act like a captive, and we’ll treat you like one. Andrei was clear that we are to make you comfortable.”
Comfortable! What the hell does that mean?
Freedom is comfortable. Being kept against my will, not so much.
But Natalia reeks of loyalty, and if she’s known the Kozlovs most of their life, she’s immune to the darkness of this world. She’s sure as hell not going to help me, so I am going to have to help myself.
“In that case, sure, I’d love to look around.” Figuring out where we are is the first step towards making a run for it.
Because it went so well the first time.
“Great.” Natalia looks pleased. “I'll let you get ready for the day. A maid has put away your clothes and you’ll find a fully stocked bathroom at your disposal.” Natalia delicately folds her napkin in front of her and stands before heading for the door.
This should be interesting.
I spend the morning alone with Natalia, roaming around the incredible property.
Well, not entirely on our own. Two guards trail behind us from a polite distance, their presence inconspicuous, but never forgotten.
We start outside, where the sprawling property is surrounded by woodland.
Beyond the pool and grand terrace, there are tennis courts, a hot tub, a vegetable garden, and a flower garden.
In the early June warmth, the gardens and trees have come alive, and the grounds have a magical quality. I swear I can smell the tang of salt in the air, as if we are by the ocean, but when I ask Natalia about it, she ignores me and continues the tour.
Beyond the greenery is a helicopter landing pad and a tower that I imagine comes with heavily armed security guards—a stark reminder that this isn’t some peaceful wonderland. I wonder if this is to keep prisoners like me in or intruders out. Likely both.
Inside is equally impressive. Natalia shows me the private movie theater with leather floors and plush couches and a state-of-the-art gym, which certainly explains why Andrei is built like a Navy Seal.
Natalia looks at me expectantly as we come to a stop in front of giant oak doors. “Are you ready for this?”
“Sure, as long as it’s not where you stash the weapons or a freaky sex room, I’m fine.”
Natalia rolls her eyes. “Nothing like that. It’s the library.” She opens the door to reveal a room even more opulent than the rest of the house. Onyx marble shines at my feet, flowing to countless bookshelves stretched to the ceiling. Despite the size of the space, cozy reading nooks abound.
“Andrei had it renovated recently. Designed it himself. What do you think?”
I’m literally too stunned to speak.
Original fine art covers the walls. Bold abstract pieces beside classical paintings, and a few pop art pieces thrown in for whimsy. The walls are an art historian’s dream and I should know. Art is my obsession. It was what I wanted to study—what I wanted to be—before life got in the way.
As Natalia draws me farther into the room, I can smell his scent, faint wood smoke and sandalwood. My body reacts on its own accord, heat surging through my core.
“Are you all right?” Natalia lays a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes, all good.” I flash her a smile. “This room is incredible. I’m a big fan of libraries… and art.”
She nods. “So is Andrei. Feel free to borrow any books of interest. It’s stocked as well as the New York Public Library.”
While I would love nothing more than to take her up on her offer, I can’t let myself get seduced by my surroundings.
Natalia might be gracious, but I’m still a prisoner here and I should be actively trying to escape—starting with figuring out where we are.
I make my way over to the picture window near the far side of the room, but the view doesn’t tell me much more than we are somewhere secluded.
“Are we still in New York State?” I ask point blank.
“So many questions,” she clucks. “All you need to know is that you are safe here.”
“Safe!” I wonder for a moment if she’s a bit off her rocker. “We must have very different definitions of the word safe.” Being locked up in the home of a menacing mob boss is way outside of my definition. “Don’t you think it’s messed up that I’m being kept here against my will?”
“My job is not to question,” she says, her voice tinged with steel. “If Andrei wants you here, there’s a reason.”
“If you say so.” I roll my eyes. She’s drunk on the Kozlov Kool-Aid.
She looks down at the phone in her hand. “Andrei just messaged. He’s on his way back to the estate and he wants to see you. He’ll meet you here.”
My body flushes cold and hot, unable to settle on a reaction—nerves and excitement warring inside me. I seem to have developed a warped fascination with his smell, magnetic smile, and golden eyes.
This is not good.
As she leaves the room, I swallow to get rid of the sudden dryness in my throat.
I knew what Oleg wanted from me, but Andrei is a different beast. His dark pull is all-encompassing and I can already feel myself drowning.