Chapter 45
“Get rid of her fucking body,” Dima tells the guy in the warehouse, pointing at Sage. “This stays between us. Tell Denis and Cindy that Sage ran off after we got Genesis.”
The man pushes himself off the wall. “Got it, boss. You want me to bury her, drop her in the Hudson, or what?”
“Bury her.” Dima steps behind me, extracting a pocketknife and opening it. “But make sure she’s cut into pieces and scattered.”
I swallow down the vomit making its way up my throat. My muscles tense when he cuts the ropes restraining my arms before doing the same with the ones on my legs.
Grabbing my elbow, he pulls me to my feet, steadying me, and leads me toward the door. I attempt to yank away from him, but he tightens his hold on me.
A black SUV is parked outside the warehouse, which is surrounded by old buildings with empty parking lots.
The second Dima’s grasp on me loosens, I make a run for it. The driver’s door opens, and the same burly man from my father’s office steps out and grabs my waist.
I cry out, beating my fist against his sweaty back as he tosses me in the SUV’s leather back seat. The windows are so darkly tinted that I can’t see out.
Dima joins me, slamming the door. His beady eyes are narrowed in my direction as he shakes his head in disapproval.
The doors lock, and Dima snatches my wrist. He holds up my hand, inspecting it, and I attempt to scoot back when he plays with my wedding ring. He overpowers me and slides the ring off.
As soon as he releases me, I lunge forward, attempting to grab it. He snatches me around my neck with his free hand, pushing me back, and rolls down his window. Making a show of inspecting the ring, he turns it between his fingers before tossing it out the window.
“No,” I can’t help but shriek. “Why would you do that?”
He rolls up the window, looking smug. “Why would you marry another man when you were promised to me?”
I level my shoulders and voice. “Your father changed that promise. He gave me to Julian.”
Blame it on Yaroslav.
Deflect, deflect.
He shakes his head. “My father never got the money.”
“Julian has it. He’ll pay whatever.”
He wiggles his thick finger in the air, pulling up his sleeve. “Fuck the money. I’d rather have you.”
I inhale three deep breaths.
Think, Genesis. Think .
“Dima,” I say, trying my hardest to remain calm as I reach out and stroke his shoulder, “you want me to be your wife?”
“Yes.” His eyes are on my hand. “And I always get what I want, nevesta .” He grabs my hand from his shoulder and kisses the palm. “You are now mine. The best man won.”
I bite my lip, nodding.
Not telling him he’s so wrong.
For now, I need to stay on his good side.
Like so many people have with me, I’ll play nice to his face.
Then, I’ll turn just as cruel as everyone else when the time is right.
It’s up to me to outsmart and escape this man.
It’s time for me to stop being nice and start being smart.
When we’re inside a home and what Dima called our bedroom for now , he hands me a passport. “Your new name is Anya Morozova while we’re traveling.”
I open the passport, seeing my picture and new name. “Why do I need a passport?”
“We’re going to Russia, nevesta .”
My heartbeat turns heavy, but I do my best to remain calm. “Russia? Why can’t I stay here and be your wife?”
“For now, it’s safest if you’re there. You’ll stay with my family.”
“Will you be there?” I ask, forcing disappointment in my voice. I even pout out my lower lip.
He stares down at me, pleased. “I’ll fly back and forth. I need to get you out of the marriage here, and then when I return to Russia, we’ll marry there.”
No way in hell is this motherfucker taking me to Russia.
I don’t even know how I’d flee from Russia.
Time is of the essence .
“I’m sorry for marrying him, muzh ,” I say, calling him my husband in Russian and resting my palm on his chest.
He rears back, a satisfied smirk on his evil face.
I drop my hand down, massaging his stomach. “Marrying Julian hurt you, but I was so confused. He told me you didn’t want me, that you signed me over to him for the money.”
“Good thing we fixed that then, huh?” He rests his large palm on my face, dragging his thumb over my bottom lip. “Now, you’re mine.”
I tip my head down, making a show of sniffing myself. “I’m all gross from being tied up in that warehouse. Can I shower before we leave?”
He cocks his head to the side.
“Just really quick, alone ,” I rush out. “Then, we’ll leave, get married, and have a great honeymoon.”
God, please don’t let him try to join me .
A bang on the door interrupts us.
“Boss!” a man calls from the other side of the door. “We need to talk!”
“A quick shower,” Dima huffs out. “Our flight leaves in forty-five minutes.”
“Thank you.” Lifting on my tiptoes, I kiss his cheek and scurry to the adjoining bathroom. As soon as I shut the door, I lock it, turn on the shower, and begin my hunt.
As quiet as I can, I go through the bathroom drawers first.
All I find weapon-wise is a pair of scissors, and I take them with me.
I run into the attached closet, searching through it next, and smile when I find a gun, stuffed behind a stack of socks in a drawer.
Jackpot .
What an idiot, letting me in here, knowing there’s a weapon.
I grab the gun, inspecting it.
Now, I’m not experienced with guns, but I’ve been doing my fair share of research on them lately. I’ve watched a few videos on proper gun safety and how to use them. I also witnessed Julian kill my father’s attorney and Dima kill Sage, watching how they handled the guns while doing it.
Deep down, I wanted to be prepared in case this ever happened.
I check the gun for bullets, finding it loaded, and snatch one of Dima’s hoodies. I slip it over my head, check the gun’s safety is on, and shove it in the front hoodie pocket. My search continues for any other weapons.
I freeze when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“Why’s this locked, nevesta ?” Dima asks through it.
I hurriedly strip out of my clothes, tucking the gun and scissors in the back of my pants on the floor, and jump in the shower. “Sorry, can’t hear you!” I soak my hair as fast as I can. “Almost finished!”
I turn off the water and jump out of the shower. Shivering, I redress, move the hoodie from my pants to the front hoodie pocket, and crack open the door just as Dima threatens to kick it down.
“Sorry,” I say, poking my head through the crack. I tug on the hoodie string around my neck. “I borrowed one of your shirts. I like to wear my hubby’s clothes.” I fake a smile.
He pushes the door open, causing me to tumble back a few steps, and enters the bathroom. “You ready to go?”
“Do you have a blow-dryer?” I ask, twirling a wet strand around my finger.
He does. I saw it during my search.
“Yeah.” He grabs the strand from me and wraps it around his finger, giving it a slight tug. “It’s in the bottom-right drawer.”
I peek around him, biting my lip, and look at the bottom drawer. “Are you sure you want me to go through your drawers? I didn’t because I know how people like their privacy.”
He drops my hair, running his tongue over the front of his tooth. “I’ll grab it for you, but you need to hurry, nevesta . We’re short on time.”
As soon as he turns around, walking toward the marble double vanity, I slowly draw the gun from my hoodie pocket. It’s risky since there’s a mirror, but it’s now or never.
As soon as he glances down in the drawer, I raise the gun and shoot.
The gunshot is loud, and I see him attempt to reach for his gun as soon as I pull the trigger, but it’s too late. My heart nearly stops as I watch the bullet collide with his head. His head flings forward, hitting the mirror, and he slumps against the counter.
I cover my mouth, shocked that I did it.
How did he make it so easy for me?
I guess there are perks to people believing you’re weaker than them.
Dima saw me as the used.
I played that part until it was time to prove him wrong.
My eyes widen as realization hits me.
I killed someone. I’m a murderer.
Now, I need to finish my plan and finish it fast.
I counted at least three other men in the house when we arrived. Unless they’re deaf or wearing headphones, they had to hear the gunshot and will probably be up soon to investigate.
Rushing over to Dima, I check his pulse.
The move reminds me so much of when I did the same to my father in his office. I grin when I don’t feel anything.
Now, I need to figure out how to get out of here.
I tug Dima’s body down to the floor, a smear of blood following him, and search his pockets for his phone.
I tap the screen as soon as I do, finding it locked.
Shit.
Kneeling, I put the phone in front of his face.
It still doesn’t unlock.
“Dima! I heard a gunshot!” the same guy who interrupted us before yells through the bedroom door. “Is everything okay?”
Fuck!
I don’t reply, hoping no response will be good enough.
“Boss, tell me everything is okay!” He wiggles the doorknob, and I’m thankful Dima locked it earlier. “If you don’t, I’m breaking down the door!”
“Dima is in the shower,” I shout. “Everything is good!”
“Why’d I hear a gunshot then?”
My head grows dizzy. “It was an accident. He was showing me what’d happen if I tried to run and shot the ceiling.”
I try to unlock the phone with facial recognition again.
Cursing when it doesn’t work, I crawl across the floor, over his blood, and snatch his gun, just in case.
Two guns are always better than one, especially when dealing with psychopaths.
“Open the door and let me find out myself, cunt,” the man says, and it sounds like he’s kicking the door.
Turning the shower on again, I strip out of my clothes and change into Dima’s robe. I drop the gun and scissors in the robe’s pocket and race toward the bedroom door, wiping off any blood on me on the way.
The guy stops his kicking when I crack the door open.
He tries to open it farther, but I block his way into the room.
I rest my hand on my hip, staring him down. “Dima is not happy about you interrupting our shower.”
“Dima doesn’t shower in the middle of the day.”
“We got kind of dirty … you know …”
A sinister smirk forms on his face as his eyes roam down my body. “I don’t believe you.” He shoves me out of the way.
I stumble back as he forces himself into the room.
I’m so screwed.
As soon as his back is to me, I raise my gun and shoot.
The first shot misses him, hitting the wall.
My pulse races.
My hands start shaking.
I have to be quick.
He turns, grabbing for his gun. I white-knuckle the gun, touching the trigger, and I shoot again just as he’s facing me. He falls back a step as a bullet connects with his face. His body sways to the side, and he’s struggling to grip his gun.
Not wanting to risk his men hearing another gunshot, I pull out the scissors and charge toward him. He drops the gun, and I raise my arm, stabbing him in the neck and pushing him down.
He collapses onto the carpet with a heavy thud. Blood gushes from his cheek and neck as I stab him again and again.
I stare down at his dead, bloody body when I’m finished.
I jump to my feet, close and lock the bedroom door, and fall next to Dima’s dead man. Blood seeps around his body, his eyes wide open and his thumb still on the gun.
“Tell me you have one,” I mutter to myself, searching for his phone.
My adrenaline pumps out of control.
“Yes!” I whisper to myself when I find the flip phone.
I open it, finding everything in Russian.
That’s at least one good thing I can appreciate my father for—making sure I knew how to speak the language of the men he sold me to.
I’m nearly out of breath, nearly in a daze, as I realize I don’t know Julian’s number by heart.
Out of options, I dial 911.
I listen to the ringing, and as soon as the operator answers, I say, “My name is Genesis. Dima Morozova kidnapped me.”
“Ma’am, do you know where you are?” he asks.
“No.” My mouth is so dry that I’m shocked I can form words. “Can you trace this phone?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not coming up as traceable for me,” he says in a cool voice, his words slow, as if he wants to relax me. “Can you describe your surroundings for me, Genesis?”
“I’m in a house.”
I jump to my feet, nearly tripping over the man’s body, and rush to the window, looking out it. There’s nothing distinguishable. We’re on some kind of hidden estate.
“Can you get in contact with NY FBI agent Derrick”—shutting my eyes, I try to remember the last name the prosecutor had said during his speech, and my body shudders when I do.
“Green. Agent Derrick Green. Tell him Dima Morozova kidnapped Genesis Bellini and we’re at his house.
There are other armed men here. Get here fast! ”