Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Anna
A sharp chemical smell pierced my nostrils, jolting me awake. My head felt like it was splitting in half, my throat raw as sandpaper. I tried to move but found myself tied to a freezing metal chair, hands bound behind my back with rough rope that bit into my wrists.
The moment I opened my eyes, I took in a massive abandoned space. Crumbling concrete walls were covered in rust and mold, with rusted hooks and conveyor belt remnants hanging from the ceiling. The air reeked of rust, decay, and blood.
A slaughterhouse. An abandoned slaughterhouse.
Fear crashed over me like ice water, but then another thought slammed into my brain—Sofia!
I looked around frantically. She wasn't here.
That realization pulled me back from pure terror. The kidnappers only wanted me. My daughter was safe—still with Yekaterina, still running a fever, but safe.
I had to get back alive. For Sofia, for Alexander, I had to survive.
Several kidnappers were smoking and chatting in a corner, not bothering to hide anything from their "cargo." A dim bulb swayed overhead, casting twisted shadows on the walls.
I held my breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Years of journalism had taught me how to gather information in dangerous situations. I closed my eyes, pretending to be unconscious, and listened carefully to their conversation.
"Boss says if that Volkov hands over the goods, we get five million," one raspy voice said. "Then we'll be rich. Can go live it up in Miami."
"Five million? How much do we actually get?" another voice scoffed. "Still, stepping on Volkov to climb up—that's worth it. That bastard's been running New York like he owns it for too long. Someone needs to teach him a lesson."
"Exactly. That arrogant Russian thinks he's the king of the East Coast? Tonight he'll learn what despair feels like," a third voice joined in. "Heard he's gone crazy over this woman. Ha! Ironic. Even gangster bosses have weak spots."
They laughed, the sound echoing harshly in the empty space.
Then one of them said smugly, "Speaking of which, that Romanov woman really thought she was clever. Deliberately leaked false intel, trying to lure us to some fake hideout on the west side. She never dreamed we'd already cracked her plan and turned her 'trap' against her."
My heart jumped. Romanov? Tatyana?
"Yeah," another one chimed in mockingly, "she thought she could play us with a fake address, but she actually told us where the person she cares about most would show up.
That woman thought she was protecting Volkov's girl, but she pointed us right where we needed to go.
We waited near Volkov's woman's friend's place like sitting ducks, and sure enough, this idiot walked right into our hands. "
"But you gotta admit, that Romanov woman's something else. Still loves Volkov but helps him protect his wife. Pretty damn stupid."
The words hit me like lightning.
My blood froze in my veins. My breath caught in my throat.
Tatyana wasn't trying to hurt us. She was protecting us in her own way!
That phone call I overheard, all those detailed descriptions about Sofia's routine and appearance, that "witness's daughter" file—it was all fake!
She was deliberately feeding them false information, trying to lead these kidnappers away, draw them to a fake address!
What I heard about that "safe house," all those details—they were bait she'd designed.
And I, blinded by jealousy, by misunderstanding, by those deep-rooted insecurities, thought she was selling us out!
I'd rejected Alexander's explanation, rejected his protection. I'd left the manor, taken Sofia somewhere he couldn't fully protect us.
I'd destroyed Tatyana's protection plan with my own hands, delivering myself into real danger.
Worse, I'd pushed Alexander away. The man who truly wanted to protect us, who'd been honest about his past, shared his trauma, sworn to guard us—I'd chosen not to trust him, chosen to run.
When he needed my understanding and support most, I'd given him suspicion and betrayal.
Crushing guilt and regret flooded over me like a tide, nearly drowning me. Tears poured out uncontrollably, streaming down my cheeks and dropping onto the dusty floor. I bit down hard to stay silent, but the tears wouldn't stop.
If... if I'd chosen to trust Alexander then, if I hadn't run off so impulsively, if I'd stayed calm and sought the truth...
If I could have set aside those insecurities and believed his "I love you"...
I remembered that night in the car when Alexander told me about his childhood trauma, about losing his parents. His PTSD attack, his vulnerability and fear, when he said, "You and Sofia are the most important people in my life."
And I'd chosen to leave him at the most crucial moment.
But it was too late for regrets now.
I had to survive. I had to get back to Sofia, back to Alexander, apologize to them, tell them I was wrong.
The will to live became stronger than ever.
I began coldly assessing my situation. Hands tied behind my back, but feet free. I quietly flexed my fingers, testing how tight the ropes were.
The knots weren't professional—just rough loops. These kidnappers weren't trained operatives, just common criminals, maybe hired muscle from another family.
That was good news.
I pretended to stay unconscious while using my fingertips to explore the rope structure. The rough hemp scraped my fingers raw, but I couldn't stop. I found the end of a slip knot and began working at it bit by bit.
Every movement had to be careful. They couldn't notice.
Heavy footsteps approached. I immediately stopped moving, letting my body go limp.
"This bitch awake yet?" a raspy voice asked.
"Don't know. Go check. Boss is about to make the call," another voice answered.
A rough hand grabbed my hair, yanking my head up violently. The sharp pain made me open my eyes and cry out.
"Well, well. She's up." A bald man with a scarred face grinned down at me. "Volkov's woman. Welcome to hell."
He pulled out my phone, waving it in front of me. "Now we're gonna call your dear husband. Remember—behave, or I don't mind having some fun with you before he gets here."
My stomach churned, but I forced myself to stay calm. I couldn't add more pressure to Alexander's situation.
Slow, steady footsteps approached from behind. All the kidnappers straightened up, looking respectful.
"Move aside," A low voice commanded.
The bald man immediately stepped back. A well-dressed middle-aged man walked in. About fifty, hair perfectly combed, but the lines around his eyes and mouth showed exhaustion and hardship. His left hand was bandaged.
My heart jumped—I'd seen this man in photos!
Marcus Warren. The underground organization leader Alexander had been hunting.
He stopped in front of me, looking down with eyes full of hatred and madness.
"Anna Parker," he said my name slowly, each syllable dripping with venom. "We finally meet. You know, it's because of you that I've fallen this far."
He suddenly grabbed my chin, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe.
"Over a month ago, you photographed my men's deal at the docks," his voice trembled with rage. "Those damn pictures! I just wanted to send some guys to 'visit' you, teach a nosy reporter what happens when you see things you shouldn't, take photos you shouldn't take."
Fear flashed in his eyes. "But I didn't know you were Volkov's woman!"
He released me and began pacing, each step radiating suppressed fury. "My men hadn't even touched you, and Volkov went insane! He personally took out three of my hideouts, killed over twenty of my men! He hunted me like a rabid dog, forced me to flee the East Coast!"
He spun around, pointing at his bandaged hand. "See this? His men broke it! I used to rule this city, now I'm hiding in this damn slaughterhouse like a rat!"
"And all of this," his face came inches from mine, "is because of you! If you hadn't taken those photos, if you weren't Volkov's woman, I'd still be fine!"
"You did illegal things yourself," I said, fighting my fear. "That smuggling, those illegal deals—"
"Shut up!" Marcus slapped me hard. "In this world, everyone does business! Who do you think you are? Some righteous crusader? You're just a damn reporter! If not for you, Volkov never would have noticed me!"
He smiled coldly. "But now I've got you. That Volkov who protects you like his own eyes—now he's going to pay the price. I'll show him what happens when you cross me."
He took my phone from the bald man. "Now we're calling your dear husband. Let him know that crossing me to protect you has consequences."
He leaned down to whisper in my ear, voice ice-cold. "You ruined my life. Now I'll make you watch the man you love die for you. Volkov will come to save you, then I'll kill him in front of you. That's how this ends for both of you."
The phone rang twice before being answered.
"Mr. Volkov, it's finally time for us to meet."
Hearing his threats against Sofia broke me.
Even knowing I'd get hit, I had to let Alexander know I was alive, that he needed to protect our daughter.
"Alexander!" I screamed with everything I had. "Don't... don't agree to anything! Protect Sofia!"
The moment I finished speaking, the bald man punched me in the face. Blinding pain snapped my head to the side, blood trickling from my mouth, vision blurring.
Marcus glared at me viciously. "Stupid bitch!" Then into the phone: "You hear that, Volkov? Two hours."
He hung up and threw the phone aside.
"Watch her," Marcus told the bald man. "That maniac Volkov will definitely come. When he does—"
He made a throat-slitting gesture. Everyone laughed darkly.
I was left alone while the kidnappers moved to another area to check weapons, discussing how to deal with Alexander's men.
I continued working on the rope around my wrists. My fingers were raw and bleeding, but I ignored the pain. Bit by bit, I could feel the knots loosening.
Time crawled by. I didn't know if it was ten minutes or half an hour.
Just when I was about to give up, I felt the knots give way significantly!
A muffled explosion echoed from outside, followed by blaring alarms!
"What the hell?" Marcus jumped up.
"Boss! Someone's broken in!" a panicked subordinate ran in. "It's Volkov's men! They're—"
Before he could finish, rapid gunfire erupted outside.
Alexander was here!
Just like he'd promised, he'd come to save me!