Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
JUDE GRAVES
Alexei’s estate looms ahead, and my emotions are pretty much nonexistent. I feel numb as I watch the dark trees blur past on either side of his long driveway. When we walk up the stone steps to the front door, we are greeted by warm light and soft music, as if it were just a normal evening.
“Ah,” Alexei says when we step inside, arms spreading wide. “Welcome.”
Erik stands silently at his side, eyes already locked on Adriana like she’s something on the menu for him to devour. I feel her stiffen beside me. Her fingers curl into my sleeve.
I turn my head just enough to meet Erik’s gaze.
Don’t.
The message lands. His mouth twitches, amused, but after a beat, he looks away.
Alexei notices everything. “Please,” he says lightly. “Sit. Eat. Let’s talk.”
The table is immaculate, set with delicate plates and crystal glasses. A young woman steps forward with the dishes, setting them down one by one. She’s beautiful in a fragile way—soft eyes, thin frame, shaking hands. Her throat is bruised with purple and yellow marks in the shape of fingers.
My jaw clenches so hard that my teeth are in danger of cracking. Adriana sees it too, her knee anxiously brushing mine under the table. We’ve lived in hell-adjacent worlds before, but not like this. Not where people are owned...so openly.
Alexei gestures for us to begin. “Eat.”
Nolan does. Too eagerly, I might add.
“So,” Alexei says conversationally, cutting into his bloody steak. “There’s been some activity. Small incursions. Access attempts. Care to explain?”
Nolan swallows. “I—I believe it’s an enemy of mine. Or someone jealous of our partnership. Nothing to do with you, of course.”
Alexei hums, unimpressed.
I lift my wine glass and take a drink, mostly to give my hands something to do. As I lower it, my gaze drifts to the floor, where I notice something. But before my brain can catch up, Alexei’s voice sharpens.
“Incompetence,” he snaps.
My eyes fly back up at the sudden shift in tone.
“I do not tolerate liabilities,” Alexei says, irritation flashing across his face. “You’re creating a mess for me, Nolan. You’re attracting unwanted attention.”
Nolan laughs nervously. “Alexei, come on—”
The gun appears out of nowhere.
One moment, his hand is empty. The next—
Bang.
Nolan’s head snaps back, blood exploding across the table. The linen. The glasses. My face.
Time freezes.
A droplet of blood rolls down my cheek like a tear.
Nolan collapses out of his chair with a heavy, final thud, his body crumpling to the floor beside the table.
Adriana jerks back with a broken gasp. Then she screams.
I grab her arm and squeeze hard. “Stop,” I hiss under my breath.
She chokes it off, shaking violently.
Alexei stands, calm as ever, lifting a linen napkin and dabbing at his cheek like he’s spilled wine. Blood smears red against white. “Messy,” he murmurs.
My ears ring. My heart slams against my ribs. I can’t move. Can’t think. My body is locked between fight and flight, muscles coiled and ready to fucking run.
“I will be seizing Nolan’s assets,” Alexei says, matter-of-fact. “Accounts. Properties. Personnel.” His gaze slides to me. “And you.”
Armed men silently flood the room, including Erik. He moves fast, grabbing Adriana and yanking her out of her chair. Something snaps in me, and I whirl, punching him square in the face. Erik staggers back, swearing, and I step between them.
Alexei laughs. “Oh, look at you,” he says, delighted. “Let’s not make this unpleasant.” He gestures lazily. The guns tilt toward me. “They’ll escort you back to your suite,” he continues. “You’ll pack. You’re staying here now. Under my protection.”
My stomach drops.
My mouth goes dry.
Oh, fuck.
My hands won’t stop shaking when I get into the car.
The doors slam loud enough that I should hear them, but I can’t.
Not over the roaring in my head. Adriana sits rigid in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead.
Nolan’s blood is still on her face. Dark flecks scatter across her cheeks and her mouth.
Like freckles. Her eyes are wide and unblinking, and her lips are parted like she’s trying to breathe but forgot how.
I start the engine, watching as Alexei’s men fan out behind us in two black vehicles. The tires crunch against the gravel as I pull onto the long road, trees closing in on both sides.
We don’t speak. Not a word.
The road stretches on for ten minutes. Fifteen. My pulse won’t slow. My chest feels tight, like perhaps I’m going to suffer a fucking heart attack. I’d welcome it, honestly.
“We—we have to run,” Adriana finally squeaks. The sound barely makes it past her lips.
I shake my head once. “We can’t.”
She turns to me, eyes blazing now, tears spilling over.
“They’ll just kill us,” I say flatly. “If we try, we die.”
“I’d rather die,” she snaps, voice cracking, “than endure more abuse from more fucking men.”
I don’t answer.
She swallows hard. “I was at least…used to Nolan.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Whenever he climbed on top of me, I just…got used to it. I...I knew what to expect.”
Something in my chest twists. I sigh, long and heavy. “I know the feeling.”
Her head whips toward me. “What?” Her voice breaks completely now. A sob slips free, sharp and helpless. “W—why aren’t you acting more surprised?”
I finally glance at her. “The rug,” I say quietly.
She frowns, confused. “What?”
“It wasn’t in the dining room,” I continue. “I noticed it moments before the shot. I knew someone was about to die.”
Her mouth falls open.
“He planned it,” I say.
She covers her mouth with a hand to stifle a response. My heart is still erratic as I pull into the parking lot, Alexei’s men parking behind me. They blocked us in, of course.
The elevator ride is unbearable. Adriana stares at her reflection in the mirrored walls, fingers shaking as she wipes at the blood on her cheeks. It smears instead of disappearing, causing her to whimper.
Inside the suite, the door clicks shut. And she breaks down immediately.
She crumples to the floor like her bones just…
melted beneath her skin. “They’re going to take me,” she sobs, clutching at her hair.
“They’re going to sell me. Nolan’s gone—he was the only thing keeping them from—” She chokes on the rest. “They’ll do whatever they want to me. ”
I watch her, but can’t find words.
“No, no, no,” she cries. Her whole body is shaking now, grief and terror tangled together, spilling out in gasping breaths.
I stand there, my own thoughts scrambling in my head. Because she’s not wrong. Protection in this world is conditional. You have to be useful in some way, or you’re a waste. That’s what I’ve discovered.
Footsteps outside the suite snap me back into my body. I crouch and grab Adriana by the arms before she can spiral further, hauling her up off the floor. She makes a small, broken sound of protest, fingers clawing into my shirt like she might fall apart if she lets go.
"Please, give me enough to kill me." She points to where my kit is stashed in the living room. "Please, please, Jude. I'd rather die. Please."
“Hey,” I say sharply, forcing her gaze to mine. “Look at me.”
Her eyes are glassy with absolute panic. Gone somewhere else.
“They’re here,” I tell her in a low voice. “You need to pull it together. Right now.”
Her breath stutters. I pull her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head. She presses her face into my shoulder, shaking so hard I can feel it in my bones.
“Don’t give them a reason to hurt you.”
The knock comes, and I straighten, keeping an arm locked around Adriana as I open the door. Alexei’s men fill the hallway. Not Erik. Thank fuck. They don’t say anything, which only pisses me off. Adriana and I move through the suite, throwing clothes, toiletries, passports, and cash into our bags.
I grab my helmet, then pause, fishing my motorcycle key from my pocket. I turn to one of the men—short black hair, blue eyes, a pale scar slicing across his cheekbone. “Bring the bike, Aiden,” I say, tossing him the key.
He catches it easily, nodding once.
We’re out minutes later. Straight to hell.
The drive back to Alexei’s estate feels like a dream that my brain is actively forgetting. I’m behind the wheel of the Lambo, hands tight on the leather, Adriana silent beside me, her knees pulled tightly to her chest.
“You should put on your seatbelt,” I mutter without looking at her.
“Now of all times, I don’t care if I go through the windshield of a fucking sports car,” she answers swiftly. “If you happen to run off the road, I’ll be fine with it.”
I sigh.
Aiden rides alongside us on my motorcycle, perfectly balanced, flanked by black SUVs front and back. It’s a procession. A transfer of ownership. Our lives are straight survival here now.
The gates slide open, and we curve around back, following the long driveway past the pool, past manicured hedges and stone paths I didn’t even know existed.
Then I see a small, white guesthouse. It’s set back behind the mansion, tucked beside the in-ground pool.
The large windows are glowing from the inside. A rather beautiful prison.
I park and cut the engine, allowing the dreadful silence to swallow us both. I glance over at Adriana to find her already staring at me with wide eyes. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “Just do what they say.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me when I say it’s okay. We both know it’s not. We grab our bags, and armed men surround us instantly.
Aiden dismounts my bike, rolling his shoulder slightly, then gestures toward the guesthouse. “Inside.”
Adriana doesn’t hesitate. She stays glued to me, fingers clutching my sleeve as we walk.
Her gaze is darting around like a prey animal.
Before I follow her in, I pause to scan the property.
Trees line the perimeter on all sides—dense, tall, and impenetrable.
The backyard is pristine, and the pool water is shimmering under soft lights.
Stone patio. Lounge chairs perfectly aligned. And cameras.
Everywhere.
Corners of the house. The pool deck. The tree line.
No blind spots anywhere to be seen. I swallow, then step inside.
It’s a small one-bedroom, one-bathroom space with a compact kitchen to my left with stainless-steel appliances.
To my right, there’s a cozy living room with a gray L-shaped couch, a mounted flatscreen, and a gas fireplace.
Adriana goes straight for the bedroom without a word, closing the door behind her like she’s sealing herself inside a bunker. I drop my bag onto the floor, staring at the little house. This is it. This is our new reality. And I don’t know how the fuck we’re going to survive it.
I don’t realize how bad it is until my hands won’t stop shaking. It’s like my body is finally catching up to everything my mind has been shoving down. I need to dose.
But I don’t bother reaching for my kit just yet. I just dig into my pocket and pull out a small baggie of oxy, my fingers clumsy as I shake a couple pills into my palm.
Dry-swallow. One. Then another.
They scrape my throat on the way down. I grab my bag and open the bedroom door. Adriana is on the bed, folded in on herself, crying again. The bedroom is small with one white dresser and a narrow closet tucked off to the side.
I steady a breath before I move toward her. But she stands as soon as she sees me and steps into my space, arms wrapping around my torso. Her face presses into my shirt, her sobs muffled, soaking through the fabric.
I don’t know what the fuck to say.
My brain feels like it short-circuited back at the dinner table when Nolan’s brain sprayed across our fucking faces. Maybe I’m still in shock. Maybe part of me hasn’t caught up to the fact that my previous owner got shot in the head three feet from me.
Before I can even fake comfort, I look up when I sense another presence has joined us. Alexei leans against the doorframe. A few men stand behind him, guns relaxed but visible.
Adriana shoves away from me in fear.
“Nice, isn’t it?” he says with a sharp smirk.
I just stare.
“Well,” he continues lightly, “make yourselves at home. Someone will bring your dinner soon, since we didn’t really get to eat much.” His eyes flick between us. “Aiden will text you. If you need anything, let him or Erik know.”
He straightens slightly.
“You’re not to leave the property unless permitted. Understood?”
I nod once.
He smiles like a snake. “Good. Tomorrow morning at nine. Be ready. We have some work to do.”
“Like what?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His eyes narrow just a fraction. “Continue your training, of course.” He tilts his head. “Sleep well, little rockstar.”
And then he’s gone.
When the door closes, Adriana lets out a breath and hugs me again, fingers digging into my back. She pulls back just enough to look at me. “Will you—will you shower with me?” she asks, voice wrecked. “Not to...to do anything. Um, I just don’t want to be alone.”
I nod.
We move into the small bathroom together. I turn the water on hot, and she steps under it, immediately sagging into me. She clutches my chest, forehead pressed against my skin, and cries. She hasn’t been able to stop.
We don’t wash our hair.
We don’t really wash at all.
I stare at the tile wall over her head, watching the steam rise, the water trail down her body, and swirl into the drain. My hands finally stop shaking. Not because I’m okay. Because I’m numb. And as I hold her there, I realize with terrifying clarity just how completely, utterly fucked we are.