Chapter 7
ISABELLA
The door slams shut, and my scream echoes through the dark, damp basement, still tainted with the lingering scent of sweat and iron. My wrists ache from the cold metal of the restraints, but the discomfort fuels my resolve. I refuse to be broken, not by Lev or anyone else.
Minutes pass. Hours. I wait for him and allow myself to imagine what he’s doing. Eating a steak? Watching a football game?
Jerking off to the image of my naked body suspended from his ceiling and the taste of my arousal still on his tongue?
Asshole.
My mouth feels as dry as a desert. I have to pee. He left me throbbing for release and nearly begging. I’m cold, my ass is killing me, and I’m so hungry, I’d eat damn near anything he’d give me, even those gross kholodets they like to eat, some jelly-like, gelatinous delicacy served in Russia.
Okay, maybe I wouldn’t eat that, but I’d stoop damn low right about now.
Ha, who am I kidding? I’ve already stooped lower than I ever thought possible. Chained up in the basement of my enemy, fighting against the man who holds my fate in his hands.
Even if he were to be smacked by some fairy godmother’s stick and he decided to grant me freedom… what he doesn’t know is they wouldn’t take me back. I’m damaged goods now, and my brother’s probably already dancing with glee at his good fortune. Imagine his luck, no need to split our inheritance.
I cannot allow the Romanovs to think they’ve bested me.
This must be on my terms.
I draw in a deep, calming breath. Blink.
Focus.
Hell, I’ve been in worse situations than this. My late father once tried to marry me to a Colombian crime lord. I was fifteen years old, planning my quinceanera, one of the most pivotal events in a young girl’s life as it marks the transition from childhood to adulthood.
Apparently, my father thought that meant it was time to sell and breed me. He and my mother fought. She threw the vase her mother had given her across the room. It shattered into pieces. In response, my father shattered her.
After she was discharged from the hospital, she left. I don’t know how she managed it. I don’t blame her for leaving, not really. I blame her for leaving me behind.
I blink my eyes and focus again. It isn’t going to help me to think about that now. I’ve risen above that. I’m better than the past I left behind. I will leave a legacy behind me, and it won’t be a woman who ever cowed to a man.
I take a deep breath and come up with a plan.
So, I’m chained. He’ll be back eventually, either to torture me again or let me go and try something else.
It was kind of cute how he called me a little liar.
Of course I’m lying. I could tell him so much information it would fill reams of notebooks and systematically decimate everything my brother has built and hopes to build yet.
I can’t do that, though, and it has nothing to do with any half-assed loyalty to my family. I’m the one who will take over that cartel after I do away with my brother. I won’t give away the keys of the kingdom for all the money in the world, much less a threat of pain.
Ha. It amuses me he even entertained the thought of intimidating me into giving up anything. I live for pain. It turns me on.
I calm myself and focus on my breathing. Of course, I know exactly how I’m going to get out of here, but he might have a camera on me, so I must play it safe.
I look around the room, searching for a source of video feed. It takes me a minute. It’s hard to focus when I’m so starving. My vision keeps blurring in front of me. And the thirst. My God, I can hardly swallow.
Lev Romanov underestimated me. He thought he could chain me up and leave me here, and I don’t see any evidence of recording going on. I suppose he was pretty confident in these chains he has.
But he has no fucking idea who he’s dealing with. They call me La Sombra back at home—the shadow. I can be elusive and silent, capable of escaping anything.
And even naked, I’m prepared. With deft, quiet fingers, I maneuver the pin in my hair. It will take a little time, but I can undo this lock.
As I work, my fingers moving with muscle memory, his parting words echo in my mind.
This isn’t over. I will find out everything you know.
Not everything, mi querido jefe.
He thinks he can break me? I trained my entire life for situations exactly like this—to resist and to survive.
I grit my teeth and concentrate. I stifle a chuckle when I feel the lock give way under my fingers.
Yeah, baby, I’m that good.
Click.
The barely audible sound is the sweetest music to my ears.
I slide the chains off quietly. Now that I’m free, I have to move fast, every movement calculated so he doesn’t notice. My heart races with a thrill of defiance. I am not some helpless damsel. I am Isabella Morales, and no one will ever keep me in a cage.
I quickly assess my clothes. Wrecked. Shit.
I slide into my shoes. They’re clumsy, and I’d give anything for a pair of slim-fitting leggings and a tank top, but it’ll do for now.
I silently move toward the door, every sense on high alert.
The basement is tricky to navigate, but I’ve observed enough of the basic layout.
I push the door open, a sliver of light guiding my way.
I hold my breath as I step into the hallway, turn, and shut and lock the door behind me. That’ll slow him down, anyway.
I move through the darkened basement, my feet silent on the cold floor.
Every sound seems amplified: the creak of a floorboard, the distant hum of machinery.
My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins.
I must get out, to find a way to freedom.
The adrenaline makes me feel like I could scale a wall if I had to.
I might have to.
He has video surveillance and guards, that much I know, but what I don’t know is where he is. That could kill me. Do his guards have patrol routes? Where are the cameras trained?
Freedom is so close I can taste it. My hands tremble as I work another lock, but I force myself to stay calm.
Heavy footsteps approach. I quickly and silently duck into a closet filled with brooms and cleaning supplies. I hold my breath, the familiar lilac scent of Fabuloso overpowering.
The steps pass by me. Is that Lev returning, or someone else? If he finds I’m gone…
When the coast is clear, I exit the closet and head as fast as I can toward another door near the windows, telling me that this one will lead to freedom. I try the lock. My pulse races when the handle turns.
Yessss. I push it open. The cool night air hits my face as I step outside. It’s early morning, dawn on the horizon. I’m so tired and so hungry, yet my heart races with exhilaration. I’ve made it.
I still have to get to the exit and then find my way out of here. I don’t even know where he lives.
But as I near the exit, a shadow looms ahead. I freeze. I can’t breathe. Is that… one of his guards or…
No.
A grim smile plays on Lev’s lips. He stands, his hands anchored on his hips. “Going somewhere, are you?”
His voice is hard and cold, and his features show no sign of surprise.
Dammit.
Panic and frustration surge through me, but I force myself to stand tall. “You can’t keep me here.”
His eyes narrow. “Can’t I?”
Frustration mixed with admiration flicker in his gaze. “You are very resourceful, I’ll give you that. I was sloppy with the restraints. But no, Isabella, you’re not going anywhere.”
I move quickly. When he reaches for my wrists, I deflect, and when surprise registers in his eyes, I take my chance. I shove at his chest, pushing him off kilter, turn, and run.
I’m faster than he is. He curses behind me as he chases me, huffing and puffing, but lock picking isn’t the only skill I’ve learned for a quick escape.
He’s gaining on me. I can feel the heat of his breath behind me, and he’s at an advantage because he knows something I don’t. I have no damn idea where I’m going. And in the end, that’s my demise. I nearly run straight into a chain-link fence in front of me. I come to a crashing halt.
Before I can react, he’s on me, his grip ironclad around my arm. “Let me go!” I scream, but it’s no use. He’s too strong, and he’s pissed.
“No,” he snaps. “You’re lucky I’ve let you live. If you think
for a moment I’m going to let you escape, you’re mistaken.” He curses in Russian. “If any of my men saw you….” He grits his teeth and whips off his tee.
It hits the top of my thighs. It’s warm and it smells like him, but I’m fucking pissed.
I meet his gaze, defiance burning a hole in my stomach. I consider kneeing him between the legs, but he’s got such a hold on me I’m afraid he’d easily deflect and then hurt me even more than he’s planning to already. I’m in major trouble and I know it.
“You’re staying here.”
“You can chain me up, but that doesn’t make me yours.” It feels childish and petty to spar like this, but I can’t help myself.
A glimmer of a smile plays at his lips. “You’re so full of yourself. You think it’s all about you, don’t you?”
I don’t respond. The rebuke stings.
“What makes you think I can’t keep you here?”
I snort. “You plan on keeping me chained up here forever?” I retort, my voice steady despite my shaky nerves. “Even then, I’d find a way. A lock is only a game for me. You’ll see.”
“I have other methods of keeping you under my thumb.”
My God. I want to smack his smug, handsome-as-sin face.
“You don’t intimidate me.”
He pulls me closer to him, his eyes flashing. “I haven’t even tried yet.”
I smirk. “Bring it.”
He smiles, baring his teeth. “Oh, I intend to. But first, let’s get you back where you belong.”
Where I… belong?
He leans closer to me, his presence overwhelming. I didn’t realize how big he was until now. Compared to his other brothers, he looks a bit smaller, but… compared to me, the idea of using the word “small” to describe him is damn near laughable.
And I’m definitely aware of how strong he is now.
Damn it, focus, Isabella.