Chapter 14
Daphne
There's a dull ringing in my ears, the distant clanking of pots and pans stirring me awake.
I push myself up on one elbow, blinking once, twice. My eyelids are so heavy, like magnets drawn together. I clutch my head and peer at my surroundings, not recognising anything.
The sheets are soft beneath me, and I'm wrapped under a warm comforter—softer than anything I've ever experienced.
The spacious room is bare, save for a wooden closet lining the wall, a chair by the window and a television mounted across from the bed.
Bronze trimmings line the walls, giving it a quiet, luxurious feel.
The air conditioning whirs softly from above me, and I notice there's an ensuite bathroom to my right, reminding me of a hotel room.
The ringing slowly subsides and I hear it clearly then, someone is outside. I stumble to the bathroom, checking my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot and my face is pale, but other than that I appear unharmed.
I don't remember how I got here. My last few memories swim past my eyes like a fever dream—my kiss with Alex, Aaron and I in the bathroom, the men who stopped outside my dorms and the hand that wrapped itself over my mouth.
My throat is so dry, I dip down and rinse my mouth, noticing the new toothbrush and toothpaste placed in a glass by the sink.
What the hell is going on?
I scan the room for something—anything—I could use against whoever is outside, but there's nothing. My phone is missing too. Finally, with no other choice, I slowly open the door.
This must be a suite because there's a small living room and an attached kitchen. Bright sunlight from the balcony bathes the entire space in golden light, illuminating the man in the kitchen who is whistling to himself as he prepares two plates of food.
Yonah.
"Yonah!" I blurt, marching up to him. He immediately looks up, meeting my gaze and then he smiles widely.
"Ms Daphne, you are up." There's no mistaking the Russian accent now. It's more obvious than ever. "Come have a seat. I've prepared breakfast for us."
I shake my head in bewilderment. "What happened? How am I here and not in college? Where is this place?"
Yonah eyes me with concern. "Please, Ms Daphne. Have a seat and I will explain everything."
I walk over to him slowly and then take a seat by the island, across from him.
"Have a drink, you must be so thirsty." Yonah slides a glass of orange juice in my direction and I can smell its freshness, which makes me want to take a sip so badly. I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth, I can't remember the last time I ate and it's hard not to stare at the food he prepared.
Fresh toast and scrambled eggs, topped with caramelised onions and some bacon. All of it smells so good, I can barely focus on why I'm here. I push the glass away and cross my arms over each other, focusing on Yonah instead.
"Tell me why I'm here," I demand.
"You were in danger, Ms Daphne. Master Alexei saved you from the enemy. If it weren't for us, you would be dead."
Master Alexei? Me, dead? My thoughts jump back to the masked men who chased me last night.
Aaron's beaten and bruised face comes to mind and a rush of panic runs through me. "I need my phone!"
I stand up and rush to the room, but my bag and belongings are no where in sight. My skin heats, anxiety singing my nerves. Aaron knows about the murder. Aaron might be in trouble too.
Aaron might be involved in this.
I shake away my doubts, knowing I have to call him and make sure he's okay. And Stacey, and Elizabeth, and Danielle. They must be worrying about me right this second.
What's wrong, Ms. Daphne?" Yonah appears in the doorway, watching me with concern. He looks like a nosy housewife with the printed apron tied over his front and a ladle held up in one hand.
"Where's my phone?"
"It is not safe, Ms Daphne. Master has taken care of it." He straightens, a looming figure, blocking the entire entrance.
A feeling of helplessness weighs me down, making me drop down on the plushy bed. Tears fill my eyes and I wipe them away quickly.
"Please don't cry. We are here to help you." Yonah rushes towards me but stops when I flinch. He stands a few feet away, hands crossed behind his back.
"Your master is Alex?" I look up at him, seeing the pride that lights his face when he nods. I've always found their friendship odd—the way Yonah spun around Alex, desperate for his approval, taking orders without question.
He let Alex boss him around so openly, and yet never argued, never protested like any normal person would. He even did Alex's coursework.
"Master Alexei will keep you safe. You must trust us on this." Yonah reassures me in calm voice. "Please come and eat. You look very pale."
"I need to go back. I have classes, I have work to do." I stand up abruptly and scramble past him, heading for the door. My heart is beating rapidly against my rib cage as I run towards it and grab the handle.
It's the electronic type, but usually these open manually from the inside as well. I yank it down with all the strength I can muster, but it doesn't open.
I know Yonah has followed me outside but he doesn't help—or stop me—as I struggle with the door, using my entire body to try and pry it open. When it doesn't budge, I resort to banging my fists against the door, screaming for someone outside to help.
Yonah pleads for me to stop, and that the room is soundproof or something, but I barely hear him speak over my cries for help. After what feels like forever, my body too weak to continue and my throat is hoarse. I finally give up and drag myself back to the kitchen.
He's busy scarfing down his eggs and bread, and he nearly chokes when he sees the murderous expression on my face.
"You have locked me inside this place." I state, voice tight. "And taken my phone."
Yonah gulps softly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his neck. He stares at me in fear, like I'm the one holding us both hostage.
Just then the door buzzes and unlocks. My eyes widen and I stand up quickly. Alex steps inside and I run towards the door, without thinking. Maybe I thought I could sneak past him but that proves impossible because he blocks the small gap and shuts the door immediately.
He's even taller than Yonah, his broad shoulders and imposing frame filling most of the doorway. There's no way I could get past him. His dark grey shirt is streaked with stains, and a strong metallic smell hangs around him.
Is that blood?
My eyes widen in alarm and I immediately take a step back, away from him.
"You," I breathe, suddenly afraid and wary of this man.
"You finally woke up," Alex states, eyeing me from head to toe. He takes off his shirt and throws it over one of the sofas. He's wearing a white undershirt that clings to his body, and I can't help noticing his tanned arms and the muscles that ripple with every movement.
Tattoos mark his skin in various places, the prettiest ones coiled around his neck—a smattering of flowers and thorns. The blinding sunlight illuminates every inch of him, every dip of ink, every protruding vein, every inch of skin.
I gulp softly, trying my best not to stare so openly at my captor, who's shirt was covered in blood when he walked in.
Who the hell is he? And why does Yonah call him master?
He walks past me heading for the kitchen sink. He washes his hands and speaks to Yonah in Russian. I frown deeply, watching this exchange. His voice, the way he speaks, it confirms everything.
He is the stranger from the shadows. The one who stole my first kiss, and now he's stolen me. Literally.
"You can't do this," I say, joining them in the kitchen.
I grab a glass of water and gulp it down because my throat is so dry, it's hard to speak and then I glare at them.
"Keeping a civilian against their will is a crime punishable by law. I have family, friends, they will report this and the two of you will be in trouble."
At hearing this, Alex and Yonah share a look and then they burst out laughing. A full blown laugh from Yonah who is clutching his stomach and Alex who snickers condescendingly. I stare at them in bewilderment, wondering what could be so funny about that.
"My dear Daphne," Alex drawls, walking over to take the glass of juice I didn't touch. He takes a sip, dark green eyes never leaving mine and I stare at his lips, remembering how they felt against mine.
"We are the law."
I frown, not making sense of his words. What the hell is going on? I'm so confused, my head might just burst from confusion.
"Why am I here?" I sit down on the bar stool, watching the two of them warily.
"I need you safe and unharmed. That's why." Alex sounds so detached, so clinical, like I'm a piece of furniture and not a living being he'd just abducted.
"Why?" I whisper, my resolve slipping from me. How am I going to escape this? Them?
"Because you witnessed a crime and I need you to name the killer in court." Alex's deep voice pierces my brain, bringing me back to the scene in that darkened alley.
The victim falling face first to the ground, water splattering in all directions, blood...so much blood, and that man. The one with the chiselled, expressionless face, who bore no guilt after putting a bullet through someones head.
They want me to testify against that monster?
"He wants you too, you know." Yonah remains silent as Alex speaks, his darkened expression only increasing my worry. The cheerful Yonah from earlier is gone.
"Specifically your head, on a platter," Alex says.
My eyes widen in fear as Alex finishes that sentence and then he walks past me, heading for the bedroom. I don't know what to think, or what to make of whatever he just said. If I'm to testify in court, why am I here, in this unknown place, unable to leave or contact anyone?
None of it makes sense. This doesn't look like a witness protection program and these two are definitely not cops. The only thing that rings true is that Alex has brought me here against my will.
I march into the room, trailing after him. He's washing his face and hands, droplets running down his white undershirt, making it cling and turn almost see-through. He notices me watching and smiles knowingly.
"You...you have kidnapped me," I blurt stupidly, watching the grin widen on that ridiculously gorgeous face of his. This is all his doing, the so called master.
He tuts to himself as he walks towards me, forcing me back until my shoulders meet the wall. His large build and overwhelming presence fills the room, making the large space feel impossibly small.
My pulse spikes when he corners me, like a predator marking its prey. He leans in and whispers, his lips skim past my earlobe, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I clench my thighs together, that familiar ache growing between my legs.
"I believe the words you're looking for are 'Thank you, darling.'"