Chapter 9 – Egor
Arlo tapped the steering wheel and input small whistles, his head slowly bobbing in rhythm with the song playing from the stereo.
I eyed him. He was in an unusually joyful mood, and it upset me. Because while he was having such a swell day, mine was not as great.
Earlier that morning, almost everything at work had ticked off, and I had to trace the source.
Seven long days, and I hadn’t laid eyes on my little captive. Something about her excited me: her feistiness and resilience. And maybe a bit of her pretty eyes and snarky responses. She was like entertainment for me, keeping me at the edge of my seat, anticipating what she would do next.
The car swerved, and I sighted the penthouse's roof from a fair distance.
Beside me, Arlo cleared his throat and turned down the stereo. He was peering closely, a smug expression on his face. “You’re going to make me lose money, Korol .”
My eyebrows arched, and he explained further with his eyes on the road. “Anatoly made me bet. Said I should give it a week.” He stole a glimpse and returned his focus to the cars in front of us. “You were supposed to talk about your little prisoner, say something about wanting to know her well-being or how she’s coping and all that....”
He trailed off and grinned.
I pointed to the upward curve of his mouth. “What’s the reason for that?”
He shrugged. “I’m just realizing that he ripped me off. He knew you didn’t give a fuck and made me put my money in anyway.”
I nursed a smile of mine and turned away from him.
“She’s settled in quite well, if I must say,” I interrupted the silence, and the grin on his face grew wider.
He knew.
I didn’t have to talk about her. What good was that when I had a functioning CCTV camera, a built-in security system, and a housekeeper always willing to keep me informed?
Anna Jerov kept me updated with her daily routines, including her feeding habits and the number of times she slept during the day and at night.
For a captive, she lived a rather interesting life. Before the break of dawn, she went on a two-hour run, taking laps around her room. She ate well and, as I’d observed, had an impressive diet plan. When she wasn’t running or eating, she would crawl into her bed and read old, boring books that Anna had supplied daily to her room.
I noted a few other things. She was freakishly tidy and organized and showered close to four times daily. Her habits were intriguing to watch, and as the days went by, I grew more fascinated by her irritation with being idle.
But a thought constantly plagued my mind.
For someone with a strong will like the detective, her sudden calm and compliance were red flags.
Dusting my fingers, I watched the buildings outside the window as the car neared the penthouse. She thought she was smart. Her surrender was nothing but pretense, and I knew better. The little detective was trying to deny me the pleasure of breaking her.
Well, we were just going to have to wait and see how long that ploy worked out for her.
The gates slid open, and the car rolled into the underground parking lot. The purring engine slowly died down, and I stepped out of the car. Arlo’s shoes clicked on the floor behind me, and the second his door closed, my phone buzzed in my pocket. From behind me, he took out a suitcase.
When I took it out, the caller ID on the glowing screen made me swear under my breath in a different foreign language.
I swiped and placed the phone on my ear. “ Dah. ”
“It’s crazy how the younger ones in this generation behave,” came his gruff voice, with a cough. “My grandson is in Moscow, and he doesn’t give a fuck about his dying grandfather who’s contracted fucking STD from that old ho, Ulyan. He doesn’t care if I kick the bucket right now. But when there’s talk about inheritance, even the Yezhovs in the grave would have their ears up.”
With a sigh, I rubbed the spot between my eyes and walked to the elevator, Arlo beside me. He pressed the call button, and we got in when the doors opened.
“Grandpa....”
The doors closed, and Arlo leaned against the wall, busying himself with his phone.
“Egor.”
“You’re not dying, and you don’t have STDs. Does Ania know about Ulyan?”
He coughed again, and I heard the clink of a glass and liquid pouring. Knowing my grandfather, he was probably on his second glass of vodka. “Well, I could be, and you would never know. And no, Ania has no idea. It should stay that way. When are you coming to visit?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“So, no visit then?”
“It’s…uncertain.”
“Ah.” He cleared his throat, and I could almost see his eyes crinkling with amusement as his old fingers gripped the crystal bottle. “We’re playing that card now, aren’t we?”
“The DFA, Grandpa. I planned to meet you at the upcoming fundraiser.”
I could hide or avoid the man, but not for long. Not when the annual Dreams for All event was approaching. It was almost tradition to have the Yezhovs attend—at least, what was left of us. It was important for the business to keep our faces shining in society, a subtle reminder of who the boss was. Marking absent was not an option. The consequences were dire.
The old man grumbled under his breath, “Suit yourself, then. Always trying to prove you’re a grown man, and I keep wondering how you can do that when you’ve got almost nothing to show for it. With that said, let’s talk about Darya, shall we?”
I gritted my teeth and clenched my jaw. The elevator dinged, and we stepped into the quiet hallway leading to the main room.
“She’s from a respectable family. Her grandfather and I used to hunt together—”
“Grandpa….”
“She’s quiet, reserved. You like them quiet, don’t you? Probably wouldn’t make a noise when you fuck her.”
“ Christ. Grandpa!”
“What? Thanks to Anatoly's daily supply, I know you’ve got women trooping in and out of your houses. But you haven’t married any one of them, so don’t even bother trying to shut me up, Egor. It’s not going to work. I’ve given you time. We’re passed that stage of fucking denial. You’re what, forty?” He paused. “No, I got that wrong. Egor, you’re forty-one. Forty-one and unmarried.”
And that was the calm before the storm—the announcement that always managed to detonate the bomb. He wouldn’t fucking drop it. It was always the same thing. It hadn’t changed since the day I clocked thirty-seven. And he wouldn’t give up. In the last three years, I’d had three different women shoved in my face, all with the tags of “prospective wives.” My patience had slacked off after the second one.
“What do you want me to do? Shave my balls? Go bald? Why don’t you understand how fucking important it is for you to start a family? Now, I’m not talking about falling in love and all that shit civilians do. I mean, establishing rank in our society. Stop trying to play the fool when you know how these things work in our tradition. At forty, you should have already tied the knot. You’re up there, Korol. You have the rest of the men looking up to you. What the fuck are they going to learn if you keep this up?”
When I didn’t say anything, he picked it as a cue to continue.
“Or am I missing something? Do you have another girl in mind?”
Surprisingly, despite the internal protest going on, my brain stopped to think about it.
The only girl that popped up was, in fact, the prisoner I held locked up in her room.
Detective Freya Fox.
But when I thought about her, I only saw a woman whose life’s mission was to jeopardize me and my family—a woman I desired to break.
Marriage was not on the list. The idea of it alone was absurd.
I peeled off my jacket with one hand and strutted over to the center of the room. “I’ll call you later. The line’s breaking.”
He started to protest. “Egor, don’t you dare cut this call on—”
I clicked the dial tone, and the call ended with a dull hum.
At the corner of the room, my six-foot-five bodyguard and right-hand man, Anatoly, sat on one of the couches with his head buried in a newspaper, his tattooed fingers curled around the edges. It had been years since I’d stopped trying to understand why he preferred reading the hardcopy to the digital.
I walked by, and he acknowledged me with a silent nod.
Arlo dropped the suitcase and turned around to leave while Anna walked up to me with a full glass of what I assumed to be water. I lifted the glass from the tray and sipped. It sizzled on my tongue and left a cool, refreshing feeling behind. Whatever it was, it was good and just what I needed to erase the conversation with my grandfather from my memory, though temporarily.
I peered up at her from the rim of the glass, and she smiled.
“Let me guess, one of your many special recipes that you’re never going to share with anyone.”
Her cheeks turned rosy, and, rather shyly, she ducked her head to shield the stain. From my position, I sighted the graying strands in her dull blonde hair, looking like a natural shade of white instead of aging gray. She was only thirty-five and had been serving me before she got married at twenty-one. But she looked older than Arlo, who could have passed as an older brother.
She wiped her hands on her skirt and spoke her best English. “The girl made the request. She says she wants to see you, Korol. ”
As soon as Anna mentioned her, my lips pulled up even further in a smile. I was pleased to know that my prisoner missed me. And her audacity only fascinated me more. The bossy queen thought she was in a position to make requests.
I signaled Anna with a finger. “It’s fine. You can bring her out.”
She nodded, shied away, and went over to Anatoly, drawing his attention with a tap on his shoulder. I watched as he folded the newspaper and fixed himself behind Anna to fetch the prisoner, standing guard in any case she developed tricks.
When they emerged, I occupied one of the couches and waved my hand dismissively.
“You may leave us,” I commanded, my voice firm but measured.
Anna curtsied and retreated, taking my jacket and suitcase with her before she disappeared around the corner, but Anatoly’s eyes didn’t leave mine until the heavy doors closed behind them.
I turned to Freya, my gaze lingering on her slender figure. I pointed to the spot Anatoly had rested on only minutes ago.
“Take a seat.”
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to the vacant couch, then back to me.
But my instruction was clear….
One slip-up.
And she understood.
With a subtle nod and an unusual quietness, she glided across the room and settled into the chair, clasping her fingers together over her bare knees.
My eyes coasted over her.
She had on a casual top and shorts, her hair tied up in a messy bun, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered what her hair would look like free from the band.
Despite her relaxed appearance, she still shone with natural beauty. Her skin glowed with a warm, sun-kissed tone, and her eyes, though dull, were vibrant.
A few loose strands framed her face, softening her features. She looked lovely, effortless, and radiant.
And yet terribly unsatisfied and sullen.
I leaned back in my own chair, steepling my fingers together as I regarded her. “How have you been?
Her eyes looked up cautiously. “Good.”
“Just good?”
She shrugged. “As good as the life of a prisoner can be.”
“Then, I take it you’ve been faring well. Anna said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes.” Her voice was quiet, and she nibbled the insides of her cheeks. “It’s been one week, and…I’m thinking that’s ample time to get anyone worried. My friend, Ruby. My colleagues at work. My mother. And sister.”
Her gaze met mine, pleading. She must have used every ounce of her pride to enable herself to beg in such a manner.
She tugged at the hem of her shorts and scooted closer to the edge of the seat. “My mother will be worried sick about me. All I need is to contact her, to let her know I’m okay. A missing person’s report is filed after forty-eight hours. It’s been seven days, and I’ve been stuck here. The police would have probably declared me missing by now, and she must be frantic with worry.”
Her gaze locked onto mine, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Please, that’s really all I ask right now. You don’t have to worry; I’m not going to blurt anything funny. Just…let me tell her I’m okay. A simple message; that’s all I ask. I promise I won’t say a word about…about this place or what happened.”
And she expected me to believe her and succumb to the feminine power of puppy eyes and soft caressing voices?
This woman really underestimated me.
I tapped my chin, crossed my legs, one over the other, and sipped some more of Anna’s wonder drink. “And that’s all?”
She nodded and fidgeted with her fingers.
“Hm.”
“It took a lot from me to do this. That’s how important this is. It’s not okay if I leave them hanging. Do you understand what I’m saying? I can’t…I can’t leave them hanging with the idea that I’m….”
She struggled with the words, and I was more than happy to oblige with completing the sentence for her.
“You mean dead , don’t you? You don’t want your family and friends thinking you’re dead.”
She gulped, like a thought couldn’t have been more appalling.
Truly dramatic, this one.
I drank more of Anna’s concoction from the glass.
“I strongly believe that it’s a delusion for anyone to think they hold some sort of importance in another person’s life. Including family. When we think they can’t live without us, it’s my opinion that we delude ourselves.”
She stared at me like she had never heard anything crazier. “What?”
I made a gesture with a finger. “Your family? Your friends? The colleagues? They’re going to be fine.”
“No….” She started shaking her head. “No, you don’t get it. I—”
“But I do.”
Thick, dark brows formed a worried line on her forehead, and I sighed. I dropped the glass on the centerpiece and produced another phone from my pocket.
Her eyes fell on it, and she went still.
It was hers.
I turned on the phone and spoke to her with my eyes on the screen. My fingers glided over the bright home wallpaper—a happy picture with her and a woman who looked like her older version, except the woman had sandy blonde hair, not brown.
Then, I swiped over to her messages, speaking as I searched for a voice note.
“How do I put this in the best possible way, Detective? When we brought you here, we took charge of everything concerning you, making sure not to leave loose ends. And that responsibility included fabricating emails and texts to those you claim care about you.”
The color disappeared from her cheeks, and watching her suddenly go still gave me a sense of satisfaction. It was exactly what I wanted to see. I wanted her to cower, to know who held the reins, and not for even the slightest moment think she stood a chance.
Freya gripped the edge of the couch and gaped, seemingly stricken and in shock. The look in her eyes was one I recognized all too well—denial. The battle of not wanting to believe or accept the current truth of things. But that was why I was there, wasn’t it? To bring her up to speed with her new reality. And I was more than happy to oblige.
I found the voice note heaped above long threads of messages and clicked play .
Her voice dispersed the silence between us.
“Hi, Mom! I know you’re probably wondering why I haven’t reached out these past few days. I’m sorry. Had to take an emergency trip out of town. Currently in Europe, Paris. It’s work-related, sort of, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Wish me luck, okay? Hopefully, I’ll get to meet someone, too. Love ya!”
When the audio stopped, I tucked the phone away, looked up at her with clasped fingers, and was completely unsurprised to see murder in her eyes.
I asked, “Wasn’t that the sweetest thing?” and she gnashed her teeth.
“That sounded a lot like me. But we both know I didn’t make that recording. I am not in Paris. My stay here was forceful and not work-related.”
My eyebrow went up. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Oh, I have.” Her scoff was demeaning. “That’s artificial intelligence, isn’t it? You generated my voice.”
“You’re catching up. This is 2024, no? Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get used to all these possibilities. And I forgot to add this part. There’s nothing work - related about your life anymore. It’s gone. Vanished. Your department isn’t very nice, and Sergeant Keith couldn’t keep covering up for you.”
Slowly, her lips began to tremble, like she knew what I would say before the words came out of my mouth.
“What did you do?”
“ Me ?” I smiled. “Sometimes, you give me too much credit. You getting fired was all on you. Ever heard of AWOL and the consequences that follow?”
She looked like I’d punched her right in the fucking guts and crushed her unspoken dreams.
Her jaw dropped. “ Fired? ”
“Exactly as you heard it. Plus, there’s a bonus. I made sure to leave little notes for a few of your colleagues, giving hints about your sudden desire to find work elsewhere. Does Paris ring a bell now? I bet it does. So, rest assured, no one’s going to look for you because they think you’re missing. You’re safe here with me.”
Hurt clouded her hardened gaze, and her nails dug deeper into the couch, like she had to restrain herself from causing bodily harm.
“You’re a monster.”
“Hm.”
My head bobbed slowly, and I tapped my feet on the floor. I pretended to consider the accusation thoughtfully, and when I was done, my retort was sharp. “Or maybe I’m just a genius. Did you think about that?”
Her jaw dropped, the expression on her face incredulous. “You think this is funny? You’re playing with my life!”
“On the contrary, the only thing I find funny is how you constantly keep underestimating me. What, you think we’re stupid? You believe that, somehow, the Bratva is dumb, and maybe you have a chance at outsmarting the system? Fun fact, Detective: You’re not the first person to try, and you’re not about to be the last. No one has succeeded. You can try as many tricks as you want, but I’m not letting you out of here, understand?”
Freya scoffed, regarding me as she would have a man with a few nuts loose upstairs. Her eyes held all her thoughts about me, especially how deeply she detested me.
“You delude yourself if you think I’m just going to sit here and obey your commands like I’m some dog.”
“A dog?” I laughed and scratched the tip of my nose. “That you are not. But one thing is certain: You’re only going to leave here when I decide to take your chains off, and that’ll probably be when you’re dead, owing to the sensitive information you have about me. Until then, you’re stuck with me.”
“I hate you.”
That struck me in an odd, uncomfortable way—how fearlessly she aimed and fired. It tilted the perfect balance that kept me afloat and somehow managed to rile the words back out.
“The feeling is mutual.” I adjusted on the couch and eyed her. “You’re an enemy; that much is true, but that doesn’t make me any less concerned about the dryness of your social circle.”
That threw her off course, and confusion settled on her face. “What?”
I motioned to her phone, hidden from sight. For some odd reason, its contents piqued my interest, and I was forward with my question.
“Judging by your flat, sterile, one-sided conversations with men, I dare say you lack a love life.”
Except one called John. Her chats with him were anything but lackluster. It was on the tip of my tongue to spill his name, but I restrained myself. Having yet to understand why I cared enough to be bothered by the stagnancy of her private life, I knew it was best to keep that information to myself.
Her embarrassment was as pronounced as daylight. She disproved my breach of privacy and decided to bring out the fierce kitten in her, choosing to scratch in defense with crimson-flushed cheeks.
“As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t go sticking your nose up in other people’s business. It’s rude, unmannerly, and uncultured. Who do you think you are asking me questions like that, huh? My therapist?”
I bit back a grin, and my eyes fell to the length of her smooth, long legs and bare feet. I dragged my gaze back up to her face with a finger on my chin. It suddenly made sense.
“So, you’ve never been with a man.”
The crimson on her cheeks turned to a scarlet hue. And never had I seen anyone more furious. She shot to her feet, closed the distance between us, and waved a fist with clenched teeth.
The words were rushing out before she could stop herself.
“I swear, you make me want to throw away every shred of discipline to punch you right in that smirking face of yours! God , you’re so infuriating. There are more important things than men, you know? Like getting an education and making the best of your career. Well, a career I was sure I had until you wobbled along in those stupid handcuffs! I am not ashamed to be a virgin. I am not ashamed to say I put myself first before thinking of spreading my legs for some man that would leave me anyway after sucking out all my juices and leaving me to hang dry. After all, isn’t the sex what they’re after?”
We both knew it was unintentional, those dirty words leaving her mouth. She was upset and trying to state a point.
But they were dirty words, nonetheless.
She shouldn’t have said those because now, I looked back at her legs and accidentally imagined her naked, soaking wet, and spread eagle. For me. On my bed.
Great .
I was checking out the cop.
And the cop, despite being my enemy, was indisputably hot.
With those brown eyes silently warning me not to look any further and those downturned lips that wouldn’t stop snatching my attention.
My gaze traveled up to the messy bun on her head, and I wanted to take off the band. Just to know what she looked like without it. To know if her hair felt as soft as it looked.
The room started getting a little hot, and knowing she was untouched made it even hotter.
Before I thought of being rational, I blurted, “Sit down.”
She huffed and started to walk back to the couch when I said, “On me.”
Her legs stopped moving, and her eyes dropped to my thighs. A weight of quietness hung above us till she gasped, “You can’t be serious.”
I gave her a look, a warning not to test me. “Sit.”
Hesitantly, she obliged—lowered her full weight on my legs and sat as stiffly as a stick.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer, close enough to perceive the heady mix of jasmine, rose petals, and powder on her skin.
My head bent forward, and my nose brushed her nape. I heard the sound of her breath hitching in her throat and almost laughed at how awkwardly she sat, like she was ready to bolt the next second.
With a crook of my finger on her cheek, I tilted her face to meet mine and held her gaze.
The detective evaporated like steam into thin air, and the woman who stared back at me was just Freya. She was an angry and confused woman with many questions who wore a guarded mask, keeping me from truly seeing how much of an effect I had on her.
My fingers skimmed the inside of her thighs, and one of my hands cradled the small of her back. She was so small, so fragile.
And yet, I almost dared to call this feisty creature perfect.
She turned beet red and tried to pry my hands off. “Stop it….”
I raised a brow.
Gone was the strength in her tone and the fire in her eyes. Her voice sounded nothing like the woman who wanted to punch my smirking face.
My fingertips traced higher to the valley between her legs, but she swatted my hands away before I could get there and jumped to her feet as if she were sitting on hot coals.
“Don’t ever put your hands on me again, do you hear me?”
I rose to my feet and cupped her soft chin. The city lights hit her face from different angles through the glass windows, enhancing her allure. I looked past the glow and made sure she heard the warning in my tone.
Our lips were only inches apart when I leaned in. “Soon, Freya. Very soon, you’ll be begging me to touch you.”
I dropped her chin, grabbed the glass from the table, and walked away, leaving her alone in the silence to hear the echoes of my voice.