Chapter 11
LIESL
Idon't sleep at all.
How could I? Every time I close my eyes, I see the casual way he said it. The wrong woman. Like it was nothing. Like ordering the kidnapping of an innocent person was just another day for him. Like the fact that his men grabbed me instead of their intended target was just an inconvenience.
I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to reconcile the man who kidnaps women and kills men, who extorts and blackmails and probably does all kinds of other criminal things I’m unaware of, with the man who let me take care of him and then held me in bed after we fucked.
The man I let inside of me. And I wanted it. I wanted every second of it. The shame feels hot and suffocating.
I watch the light from the sunrise creep across the ceiling and make a decision.
I can't stay here drowning in self-recrimination.
And I can't keep being passive while men die and my father refuses to pay—while Andrei continues to use me as a pawn in whatever game is being played here between him and my father.
I need to take control. I need to do something—anything—that puts agency back in my hands instead of leaving me at the mercy of men who see me as a transaction.
I need to call my father myself.
The idea takes root quickly. Andrei said my father won't pay the ransom.
He said he's allied with this other Bratva boss, and that he's using my kidnapping as an excuse to help this man wage war.
But Andrei doesn't know my father the way I do. And I haven’t spoken to him since that first phone call.
If I can reach him directly, maybe I can convince him to pay, and end this.
To get me out of here before I lose whatever's left of my moral compass. If he hears my voice, how desperate I am, maybe he’ll put a stop to this and give up whatever he’s decided is a better choice than just paying Andrei off and bringing me home.
The plan is risky, and probably stupid. But it's better than lying here hating myself for wanting a man who kidnaps women.
The mansion is still quiet. I think of Andrei sleeping where I left him last night, and I have to quickly banish the thought before my mind fills with the picture of his muscled, naked body stretched out next to mine.
There are no guards outside my door when I slip out into the hall.
I wonder if Andrei told them to leave me be for the night, and I wonder how he’s so sure I won’t try to run.
Does he think what happened last night means I’m fine with staying here?
After the way our conversation ended, I can’t imagine that’s true…
but maybe he felt guilty. Maybe this is some kind of apology from him, making me feel a little less hemmed in.
Whatever it is, I don’t really care. It’s going to ensure that I have a chance to get to a phone.
I move quietly through the hallways, trying to keep my footsteps as light as possible. I pass a few men, but they mostly ignore me. I make my way toward the library, where I remember seeing a landline. The only one I’ve seen in the house—if there’s another, it’s probably in Andrei’s office.
My heart pounds as I move through the building. Every sound makes me flinch. But I make it to the library without anyone bothering me. Maybe after what happened with the last guard who had a conversation with me, they’re just afraid to talk to me without permission from Andrei.
Again, that’s working in my favor right now, so it’s hard to be mad about it.
I slip into the library. There’s a long wooden desk at one side near shelves and a large window, with a mid-century style lamp on it.
It looks like a desk in an old library reading room.
There’s a landline on one side of the desk, and I bite my lip as I sink into the leather chair, my hands shaking with adrenaline.
I’ve never been great with memorizing numbers, but I manage to remember my father’s. It’s his private line, the one he gave me years ago for emergencies. It bypasses his assistants and secretaries and goes straight to him.
It rings. Once. Twice.
Please answer. Please—
“Hello?” His voice is curt, almost irritated, as if telling whoever is on the other end that this better be important.
It is.
"Dad." My voice comes out rough and choked. "Dad, I—"
“Liesl.” His voice softens a fraction, but he still sounds terse. “What’s going on? They allowed you to call me?”
“No. I slipped out of my room and found a phone—”’
“Are you alright?”
Hope blooms instantly in my chest. If he cares enough to ask if I’m alright, then surely this is all some misunderstanding. Or maybe Andrei lied, and he didn’t refuse to pay at all. Maybe I’m about to find out that my captor is so much worse than I’ve allowed myself to believe.
"I'm fine. I'm okay. But I need you to listen to me.
" I start talking faster, words tumbling over each other in my desperation to get this out before someone stops me.
"The ransom. You need to pay it. Whatever they're asking, just pay it and get me out of here.
Please. I know you're angry, I know you want to—"
"Liesl, it's not that simple."
I feel my stomach drop. All the desperate hope I had a minute ago starts to vanish, and I feel my eyes burn. "Yes it is." I grip the phone tighter, willing him to understand. "It's exactly that simple. Pay them. Get me back. We can deal with everything else later, but right now I just need you to—"
"You don't understand what's happening here."
"Then explain it to me!" My voice rises, frustration bleeding through the fear. "Explain why you won't pay to get your daughter back. Explain why you're letting me stay here with these people while you—"
The door opens behind me.
I freeze with the phone still pressed to my ear. My father's voice is still coming through the receiver, saying something I can't process because all I can hear is the sound of footsteps entering the room.
Footsteps that I definitely recognize, by now.
"I'll call you back," I say quietly into the phone, and hang up before my father can respond.
I turn slowly.
Andrei stands in the doorway, perfectly still, watching me with those ice-blue eyes.
He's dressed for the day—dark slacks, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, no jacket.
"Liesl." My name is flat. Empty of emotion. There’s no sign of the man who stroked my hair last night in bed after he came inside of me, just before everything fell apart again.
My pulse leaps in my throat. "I can explain."
"Can you?" He closes the door behind him. Locks it with a soft click that makes my stomach drop. "Please. Explain to me why you're in the library where you don’t have permission to be, using my phone, calling your father, I assume, again without permission."
"I was trying to help." The words sound weak even to my own ears. "I thought if I could talk to him directly, I could convince him to—"
"To what?" He moves toward me slowly, each step measured. "To pay the ransom? To end this situation? To rescue you from the terrible monster who's holding you captive?" His voice takes on a cold, mocking tone.
"Yes." I lift my chin, refusing to back down. If he wants to mock me, make me feel small, I simply won’t allow it. Especially after what happened last night. "That's exactly what I was trying to do. Because clearly whatever strategy you're using isn't working, and men are dying, and I thought—"
"You thought you could fix it." He stops just in front of me, looming over me, close enough that I can smell his cologne and his skin.
After last night, the scent makes my knees feel weak, my skin prickling with awareness, but I do my best to ignore it even as my pulse starts to race.
"You thought you understood the situation better than I do.
That you could negotiate with your father and make everything better. "
My jaw clenches at that, and for a moment, I’m not conflicted at all. I’m just angry. "I know him better than you do."
"Do you?" His voice turns soft, almost gentle. That feels even worse. Like he’s patronizing me. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you don't know him at all."
I jerk backward as if he slapped me. "He's my father," I snap. I hate how defensive I sound. "I've known him my entire life. If anyone can convince him to pay, it's me."
Andrei laughs. "You still don't understand, do you?
He doesn't want to pay. He's using your kidnapping as an excuse to wage war against me. As justification for his alliance with Volkov. Your father doesn't want you back, Liesl. He wants you exactly where you are, so he can profit off of a situation that he didn’t engineer, but that landed in his lap anyway. He’s a shrewd businessman, and he’s behaving like one.
Why pay me when he stands to make so much more by wiping me out and doing business with Volkov? "
My hands tremble, and I knot them behind my back so he won’t see. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?" He's so close now I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "Then why hasn't he paid? Why hasn't he negotiated? Why has every communication from him been escalating things rather than trying to resolve them?"
I swallow hard. I don't have an answer. I can't find anything that will counter what he's saying because some part of me knows he might be right.
"Your meddling makes things worse," Andrei continues, his voice dropping lower. "Every time you try to help, every time you insert yourself into situations you don't understand, you create complications I have to manage. You make my job harder."
"Good." The word comes out sharp and defiant as I glare up at him. "Maybe if your job was harder, you'd think twice before kidnapping innocent women off the street."
His jaw tightens. "We're back to this."