Chapter 13
LIESL
The lock clicks behind Andrei when he leaves, and I'm alone again.
My legs give out. I sink onto the edge of the bed, hands shaking, breath coming too fast. The room feels smaller than it did an hour ago. The walls closer. The air thinner.
His men want me dead.
The thought circles in my mind like a vulture. Some of them—how many? A few? Most of them?—think I'm a complication that needs to be eliminated. That killing me would solve Andrei's problems. That I'm making him weak.
That my father would stop if I were no longer a part of this. I think Andrei might be right when he says that’s not true. But at the same time, the man who is refusing to ransom me and instead looking to profit off of my captivity isn’t the man I believed my father was.
I don’t know what to believe any longer. I press my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the spinning in my head.
This is my fault. All of it. If I hadn't been walking down that street that day, if they'd grabbed the right woman, if my father had just paid the ransom like a normal person instead of arming Andrei's enemies—
No. That's not fair. I didn't ask to be kidnapped. I didn't ask for any of this.
But I did ask for him.
I let him kiss me. Let him touch me. I let him inside my body and my head and every defense I thought I had. I convinced myself there was something human underneath all that violence. Something worth reaching for.
And now men are dead. Now there's a war. Now Andrei's own people are questioning his leadership because he won't kill me.
You're mine, he said. Like it was simple. Like claiming me solved everything. But it doesn't solve anything. It just makes everything worse.
I stand up and pace to the window. I press my forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes.
There has to be a way to fix this. There has to be something I can do that doesn't involve more death, more violence, more of Andrei's men questioning whether I'm worth keeping alive.
My father. If I could just talk to him directly. If I could make him understand that this war isn't necessary, that I’m more important than whatever he’s doing with this other boss, that there's a way out of this that doesn't end in blood—
Andrei won't listen to reason about my father.
He's convinced Alexander is the enemy, that there's no negotiating with him.
But Andrei doesn't know my father the way I do.
He doesn't understand that underneath all the ruthless business decisions and strategic maneuvering, there's a man who loves his daughter.
Who would do anything to get her back safely.
If I could just see him. Talk to him face-to-face. Convince him to stop arming Andrei's enemies and negotiate in good faith—
It could work. It would work.
I just have to convince Andrei to let me try.
I swallow hard. I have power over Andrei. I know I do—I see it every time he comes close. I’ve seen it every time he touches me. If I use that to my advantage, I could convince him.
It feels like a shitty thing to do—to use his desire to manipulate him. Like he’s making me more like he is. But the things he’s done are so much worse. And if I could stop all of this…
Maybe the end justifies the means.
I tell myself that, and I never let myself think, even for a second as I start to plan, that I’m doing this because it gives me an excuse to touch him again. To let him touch me.
To go against what I know is right, and have what I want, for just a few more moments.
—
I wait until later in the evening, after dinner.
My door is left unlocked, and I change clothes after I eat, putting on a blue slip dress that brings out my eyes and suits my coloring.
Barefoot, I pad out of the room and down to his office, noticing how the men I pass give me a wide berth.
They don’t look at or speak to me. Whatever Andrei said to them, I don’t know if it’s fixed whatever resentment there might be over the situation, but it’s definitely kept them from so much as acknowledging my presence.
When I knock at his door, I hear him call to come in.
I push the door open and quickly close it behind me, and then stand there, the wood cold against my bare feet as I watch him register my presence.
His eyes widen, and he sets down the glass of vodka that was in his hand.
His shoulders tense slightly, and he pushes his chair back a little, away from whatever he was working on.
I swallow hard, and take a few steps closer. "I have an idea.”
Andrei’s jaw works. "No."
I let my lower lip pout, just a little. His eyes flick to my mouth for a split second. "You haven't even heard it yet."
"Don't need to." He looks away, reaching for his glass. "Whatever you're about to suggest, the answer is no."
I take a slow breath, and walk closer, all the way to his desk. I press my hands against the edge and lean forward, letting the neckline of my dress dip. "Let me meet with my father."
His expression hardens instantly. I see his gaze dip to my breasts for just a moment, before he looks away again. Despite the look on his face, I feel a flicker of hope, even when he speaks again and says: "Absolutely not."
I give him that pout again. "Just listen—"
"I said no, Liesl."
"He'll negotiate if he sees me," I press on, ignoring the warning in his voice. "If I'm there, in person, telling him to stop this war—he'll listen. He has to. I'm his daughter."
"You're also leverage." Andrei’s jaw clenches. He’s trying not to be distracted by me. I can see it. "Walking you into your father's reach would be the stupidest strategic decision I could possibly make."
"Not if you're there. Not if you control the meeting location, the security, all of it.
" I move away from the desk, circling around the side of it, getting closer to him. I see him tense, but he doesn’t move back as I stop a few inches away.
I wonder if he can. If he can make himself put distance between the two of us.
"You can protect me. I know you can. And if it works—if he agrees to stop arming your enemies—this whole thing ends.
No more war. No more of your men dying. No more complications. "
"No more of you making me weak?" His voice takes on that mocking note that I’ve come to recognize.
"I don't make you weak." I lean one hip against his desk, the fabric of my dress tightening across my stomach. His eyes flick down the length of my body and back up. I hear his breath quicken.
"My men seem to think otherwise."
"Your men are wrong." I inch slightly closer. "You're the strongest person I've ever met. Nothing I do or say changes that. But this war could cost you everything if it continues. You know that."
He stares at me for a long moment. "You think your father will negotiate in good faith."
"I think he'll negotiate if I ask him to. In person, he won’t be able to ignore the situation I’m in.
" I bite my lip. “It’s hard to believe that what you’ve been telling me about him is real.
But if it is… maybe he just needs to see me.
To remember that his daughter is the one at risk in all of this. It will make it more real.”
Andrei draws in a breath and lets it out. “So now you believe me. Convenient.” His eyes narrow.
I reach out and touch his chest. His shirt is cool against my fingertips, and I can feel his heartbeat underneath my hand. “What if I'm right? What if this actually works? Isn't it worth trying?"
“This is a dangerous suggestion. For you, as well as for us. I don’t think—”
"You'll be there." I slide my hand up to his shoulder, brushing my fingers against his neck. "You'll keep me safe. I trust you."
Something flickers in his eyes. Surprise, maybe, or doubt. "Liesl—"
I shift toward him, moving in between his spread knees and kissing him before he can finish the sentence. His entire body goes rigid as my mouth touches his, softly at first, then more firmly when he doesn't pull away. His hands come up to my waist, gripping hard, and I press closer against him.
It’s the first time I’ve ever kissed him before he kissed me first. I think he realizes that. And I can feel the desire throbbing through every inch of him as I slide into his lap, arching closer to him.
"Please," I whisper against his mouth. "Let me try. Let me fix this."
"You can't fix this." His breath is hot against my lips. Underneath me, I can feel how hard he is, his thick cock pressing against the curve of my ass. His fingers dig into my waist, as if he can’t bear to let me go. As if he needs me, just the way he said he did.
A small part of me feels guilty for doing this… for manipulating him. He’s a bad man, but his need for me feels real. His desire. And I’m using him.
He’s using me, too.
"Let me try anyway." I kiss him again, my hands sliding into his hair. "Please, Andrei. I need to do something. I can't just sit here while people die because of me."
His grip tightens. "People aren't dying because of you."
"Yes they are." I pull back just enough to meet his eyes.
"Your men want me dead because I'm a distraction.
Because keeping me alive is causing problems. If I can end this war—if I can convince my father to stop—then maybe they'll see I'm worth keeping around.
" I shift against him, my voice going soft.
“Maybe you can keep me, the way I think you want to.”
There’s a flash of guardedness in his gaze. He’s not stupid. Earlier today I was telling him I don’t belong to him, and now I’m squirming in his lap, whispering about how he could keep me. There’s a fine line, and I’m close to losing my advantage.
I shift in his lap, moving to straddle him. When I rock down against him, his straining cock pressing against my center, he groans, the uneasiness in his gaze vanishing.
"I don't give a fuck what they think you're worth,” he growls. “I’ll keep you if I want to. I don’t care what they think.”