Chapter 1 #2
My scalp is burning from all the hair pulling, and my dignity is in the gutter. The boss just stands there watching me the entire time while his guy works. I grit my teeth against the dull ache, knowing my options are running out.
“If I answer your questions, will you actually let me go?” I ask, searching his cold brown eyes for any sign of honesty.
“No,” he says simply.
“What do you mean, no?” I shout, frustration finally boiling over as I strain against the ropes. “Why should I be willing to participate in this god-awful place, answering your questions if you won’t let me go? I’d rather not talk to you at all.”
Immediately, his annoying underling yanks my head back again and my eyes jerk back to the ceiling. I fight the urge to cry as the pain sears through me. “Fuck!” I groan. “Do you have a hair kink or something?”
The ugly one just sneers at me. “Keep your mouth shut, bitch.”
Before I can respond, the boss turns his attention to him. “Igor, come here.”
The ugly one has a name. Good for him.
Igor lets go of my hair and approaches.
Without a word of warning, the boss’s fist connects with Igor’s face. The crack of bone on bone echoes through the hollow factory and even I, wince on contact.
“Closer,” the boss commands.
Igor stumbles forward, and the boss hits him again, right on the other side.
He falls back, clutching a nose that is definitely broken, blood blooming between his fingers.
The boss turns back to me, casually adjusting his cuffs, his eyes not meeting mine.
“I apologize for that. I don’t permit that kind of language used against a beautiful woman without my permission. ”
“So let me fucking go,” I whisper.
He lets out a laugh and shakes his head.
“Look at you, talking back to me without an ounce of fear. Wow. My sources told me you’re always getting kidnapped, but this…
this is something else. Honestly, kidnapping you might have been completely unnecessary.
You seem pretty damn at home.” I want to punch that smirk off his stupidly handsome face.
The technician nods. “Done, sir.”
The boss takes my camera back. Then, with casual cruelty, he drops it. It hits the concrete with a sickening crack. I feel it straight in my bones. Before the gasp fully escapes my lips, he grinds his heel into the casing, crushing the lens and the body into a mess of glass and plastic.
That shit is expensive.
“No!” I scream. “My camera!”
Yet he just smiles. “Oops.”
“You did that on fucking purpose!” Tears burn behind my eyes, threatening to spill.
He crouches down, bringing himself to my level, and reaches for my face with hands that should feel threatening but somehow don’t.
His touch is gentle as he wipes away the tears that have rolled down my face.
The cologne he’s wearing smells expensive and clean, completely out of place in this oil-stinking factory.
“Shhh,” he breaths, his thumb rolling on a droplet of tear.
“I’m sorry. Really. But if I’d left that camera with you, I’d probably find you lurking around my other establishments within days.
” His thumb brushes across my cheek one more time before he pulls away and stands.
“This is insurance. A way to make sure you stay put by tomorrow.”
When he pulls away, the sudden cold is jarring. What is wrong with me?
“I have business to attend to.” He straightens his jacket, then nods to no one in particular. “Untie her.”
The ropes fall away from my wrists and ankles as if one of his men have been waiting for the instruction.
I immediately rub at the ugly reddening marks they left behind, wincing at the raw skin.
“You didn’t even have to strap me down that hard.
All the other people that have nabbed me never treated me this rough. ”
He looks at my wrists, something like amusement dancing in his brown eyes. “Well, you’re free to go.”
I stand up, fuming. He’s tall. Intimidatingly so. I have to crane my neck to look him in the eye. He just stares down at me, calculating. I take the opening and kick his shin with every ounce of strength I have left, the surprise hitting us both.
Pain explodes through my toes. “Ow! What…is your leg made of, iron?!” I hop back, clutching my foot like an idiot.
He doesn’t even flinch. “Why would you do that? Now you’ve ruined your foot.”
“Ow, ow, ow... it hurts!”
One minute he is standing in front of me, and the next, he scoops me up into his arms, bridal style, his arms cinched around my waist. He feels like a wall of solid muscle beneath that suit. I resist the urge to sigh in slight satisfaction.
“Put me down! What are you doing?”
“You’re injured. I’m taking you to a clinic.”
This makes zero sense. He kidnapped me. “And the camera?” I snap, squirming in his grip. “Are you paying for it?”
“No.” He walks away, the floor echoing with every step. “I’ll buy you a dress. A car. Anything else. But I won’t fund your career as a nuisance, Zoya.”
Control freak.
The night air teases the curls of my hair as he carries me to a sleek black car waiting outside.