Chapter Twelve
That Was Unexpected
Willow
I have no idea where I am or how long I was unconscious.
I even don’t know if I am still in the same damn country, but I doubt it, remembering snippets from the earlier conversation.
What I do know is that I am still alive because my back hurts like a motherfucker from lying on it and I am most certainly not safe.
I listen to my surroundings, trying to hear if I am alone before opening my eyes.
Slowly, I take in the room I woke up in.
I am lying on a sofa in what appears to be a large office.
Sunlight streams through the wall of French doors beside the couch.
There is a massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelf taking up an entire wall, filled with hundreds and hundreds of books.
For a split second my fingers itch to run along the spines and check the titles before reality sets in and I remember the ever-present danger I am in.
On the other end is a large desk of the same wood.
Seated there is the Russian man who purchased me.
Fear seizes my heart and wraps its cold hand around my soul.
I have no idea how I will get out of this situation.
I will have to do it on my own, though, because I think this man has taken me out of the country.
Rafe does not know where I am, and he doesn’t have the first clue where to start looking. This is such a fucking mess.
“You’re awake,” he says, his Russian accent as prominent as I remember. “I will have some food brought.”
It isn’t a question or even a suggestion as he hits a button on his desk before speaking in rapid Russian. Suddenly, I wish I had more interest in learning foreign languages. I stare at him in silence after he finishes speaking, waiting not so patiently for him to make the first move.
He rises from his chair and makes his way around his desk.
I’ve only ever seen him seated before but the man is massive.
If someone told me he was over six foot five inches I wouldn’t hesitate to believe them.
He is much larger than any of the men in my life, in height and bulk.
I study him as he walks closer to me, taking a seat in a black leather wingback chair across from the couch, a low coffee table separating us.
Blond hair, cut short along the sides with a little length left on the top, and eyes so blue they resemble the winter sky. He has a strong, clean shaven jaw and thick lips. If I had to guess, I would say he is in his late forties or early fifties.
He watches me just as closely as I watch him and I know that he is waiting for me as well.
“My name is Bogdan Inavoff. I am phakan here in St Petersburg. Do you know what that means, dikaya koshka ?”
“Bratva,” I say softly, fighting to keep the new layer of fear from my voice.
This is much worse than I thought. The Bratva are some of the scariest motherfuckers to walk the planet.
They will kill you without a second thought and if your transgression is bad enough, they will kill your family as well.
I know that I am a vengeful, blood thirsty bitch but these people make me look like a damn kindergarten teacher.
They take pleasure in killing those who cross them and use them to set an example for anyone else that may consider being similarly stupid.
“ Da, “ he replies with a wry smile.
“What do you want with me?” I ask as a young man who looks just like a younger version of Bogdan walks into the room and sets a tray on the coffee table before leaving just as quickly.
“I want you to eat something,” he says. “The drug they gave you will wear off faster if your stomach is full.”
I stare at the sandwich with disdain. I won’t eat that. There could be more drugs inside. Sensing my trepidation, he picks up the sandwich and takes a generous bite before placing it back on the plate.
“I will drink the water as well,” he says with a chuckle. “I wish you no harm, Willow.”
“What do you want, then?” My big mouth usually gets me in trouble but if we are communicating, I should be able to ask some questions.
“To repay a favor.”
We stare at each other, neither willing to give an inch. He smiles sadly.
“I will explain everything to you while you eat, after which you will call your husband.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, my voice an octave higher than usual.
The drugs must be messing with my hearing. He gestures to the food and I take it, biting into the soft, fresh bread before nodding.
“Many years ago, my sister wished to leave this life of, how do the Americans say, mobsters and violence. I helped her,” he explains.
“She lived a good life in America, met a good man, fell in love, and had a family. A few years ago, she called me in tears. My niece, Ania, was missing. The police had no idea where to start looking.”
My attention is fixed on him, making sure to take in every word he says, while still eating as demanded. I know this story and I also know it won’t have a happy ending.
“I did everything I could, spent money, shed blood, but she had vanished into thin air. Years later, in the middle of the night my sister called me. A man had brought Ania home but it was too late. He offered closure, but our family was shattered and soon after my sister took her own life.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly, knowing full well the pain something like this can bring.
“Don’t be,” he replies. “I did my research and found that your husband had been the one to bring her home. Him and his man Dominic. They saved some girls and brought closure to families that had no answers before.”
“Thalia,” I whisper her name.
“Yes,” he muses. “The little one with the fire.”
“I don’t understand...”
“Your husband did what I could not. He brought my niece, my Ania, home even though it was too late. Now, I will send his wife home.”
My instincts tell me not to believe a single word this man says. After all, I met him in Kirrill Singleton’s home and he paid an astronomical amount of money to get me here. Does he blame Rafe for Ania’s death?
“Why would I believe any of what you’re saying?” I ask honestly.
He leans forward, holding out a cell phone for me to take.
“The only number in this phone is programmed to call Rafael Gallo. Once the call is placed, he will receive this location and he will be free to come and save you.”
“As simple as that?”
“Yes, dikaya koshka ,” Bogdan says with a smile. “My mother has prepared a room for you to rest and clean up, as well as clean clothes. And my doctor is available should you feel the need to see him. I don’t know what Kirrill did...”
His words fade away as a look of rage crosses his features. He stands and walks to the door of the office. His long strides quickly eat up the space.
“Why were you there?” I ask before he can leave. “In Kirrill’s house, I mean.”
He laughs. “You should know better than anyone else,” he says, not turning to look at me as he opens the door. “It’s easiest to take people down from the inside.”
“I do.”
I remember everything I had to do, to live through, to finally be the one to reclaim my family name from my uncle Sebastian. The darkness and depravity I had to survive before I was able to claim back my life by shedding the blood of a family member.
“I will give you some privacy,” he says. “Tell Rafael to bring Thalia as well. I have something for her.”
The door clicks shut on his last word and I am left wondering what the fuck is going on. But I don’t let the thought hold me back for too long. Powering on the device I scroll to the only number in the programming and hit call.
It rings and rings before going to voicemail. Where the fuck is he? I hit call again.
“What?” Dom barks down the line.
“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” I ask, jokingly, although I have to fight to hold back tears at the sound of his familiar voice, a knot forming in my throat.
“Willow? Where are you? Tell me before someone can end the call,” he demands in a rush.
“I’m fine, Dom,” I say calmly after taking a steadying breath, trying to reassure him and myself. “Is Rafe there?”
“You’re on speaker,” Dom replies.
“I’m in St Petersburg,” I say calmly. “The man Kirrill sold me to is helping me. A location was sent to your phone, so you can come and get me.”
“Are you okay?” I hear my husband’s hoarse voice.
“I’m alive, and it could be worse. There’s a doctor here.”
“My love,” he says, anguish coating his words and I can’t hold back the tears anymore. “I should have protected you better, kept you safe.”
My heart hurts at the anguish in his voice. But these are the risks. This is the life we live and sometimes it gets dirty, scary, and painful. But as long as we have each other, we can survive anything.
“Please, Rafe,” I beg brokenly. “Just come and get me.”
“We’re coming,” Dom says, his own voice filled with emotion.
“Dom?”
“Yeah, princess?” I can hear the emotion choking his words.
I am fighting to keep my emotions under control but my voice still cracks when I speak. “Bring Thalia.”