6. Elena
ELENA
T he door to the women’s restroom squeaked open as the hinges moved.
I’d just stepped out of the stall. As I lifted my head, I found Linda-Lisa frowning at me.
She pressed her hand over her stomach. She was barely showing, but since she hadn’t lost the pregnancy belly from her first baby, she probably looked further along.
Having her hand over where her new baby grew was a protective gesture.
The tension on her face as she cringed showed how uneasy she was.
Clearly, she felt threatened.
“Um… Elena?”
I drew in a shaky breath.
“Some… men are out there looking for you.”
Shivers rippled through me.
Be strong.
Just keep cool.
Breathe.
You will survive.
“They have your purse and said that, um, you need to be escorted off the property.” She trailed into a quieter whisper as she spoke, like she was waning with the urge to be heard at all.
“Now,” she mouthed, looking like she was scared out of her mind.
I didn’t reply. There was nothing I could say to her. A goodbye wouldn’t make a difference now, and the fact that my usual need to be polite and kind had disappeared.
I didn’t need to be a people pleaser for her. Or care about what my father wanted.
The Volkov men had arrived. And they expected me to go with them.
Breathe.
Don’t pass out.
Just… breathe.
Zoning out as I walked out of the bathroom, I woodenly moved forward.
There was no hope in avoiding attention now as I exited like this was a walk to my execution, and for all I knew, it would be.
These Mafia men could kill me for this situation that hadn’t ended the way my father thought it would.
They could take me out into the desert and rape and torture and abuse me.
More shivers raced through me as I focused on putting one step in front of the other. I didn’t need to raise my head to look at the suited men in the receptionist area. The blurs of dark forms clued me in enough. Their presence was noticeable enough.
Only when I reached them did they move.
They flanked me. Another bodyguard thug showed up to point at the door.
This is it.
The end.
The conclusion to my sad, sorry life.
The walk out of the building passed in a hazy blur of seconds. Outside, the unrelenting sunshine seared my skin. Keeping my face lowered, I almost shielded my eyes from the harsh light, but I was too shellshocked to even flinch or squint.
Black SUVs stood in the parking lot, the cracked slab of blacktop I doubted I’d ever see again. I’d never park and sit in a depressed rut in my car as I stared and dreaded another day of working for my father.
This is it.
The last time anything would be normal again.
One man opened the door to the backseat, and without a word, only tripping over my feet once, I moved to enter the car.
Cool air kissed my skin as I crawled inside, but it didn’t soothe me. With how chilled I felt down to the bone out of panic and fear, I felt like I would be iced over under this air conditioning.
A tall man sat on the seat across from the one I’d taken.
Unsure how to behave, what to say or if I should speak at all, I chose to scoot back just slightly on the opposite side of the stranger.
With just me and him in here, the rest of the world blocked off with the door closed, I couldn’t endure the pressure of avoiding eye contact.
His stare burned me. Feeling his glare on me heated me up with the expectancy of facing him.
Uncomfortable and feeling like I was under intense scrutiny, I swallowed once and glanced up.
Longish brown hair hung over his brow, but it wasn’t enough to shield his penetrating and steely brown gaze locked on me. Calculating and measured, he took me in as I used up every ounce of bravery I possessed to face him directly.
Lean angles made up his masculinely rugged face that looked like it could’ve been carved from granite. Muscles showed in his neck as he tilted his head to the side slightly, as if that minor deviation could give him a new perspective of who I was.
Relaxed as he lounged there, he looked exactly like what I imagined a powerful Mafia man would be. Cool. Calm. Acting like he could play God and never suffer through the kind of depression that came with dreading another nine-to-five of working a job he didn’t want.
No one bossed this man around.
No one could order him to wither away with a meaningless life.
He ruled. Without learning his name, discovering what his role was in his Mob family, or acknowledging a single detail about him, power exuded from him.
This man was a leader. A ruler. A controlling figure who determined important decisions.
In this stare-down that had me feeling stripped bare and defenseless, I surrendered to only one question.
My fate.
Would this serious man make a life-or-death decision about me now?
Or later?
“What’s your name?”
I blinked.
Of all things, a simple introductory question hadn’t seemed likely. “You… He…” I licked my lips, stunned that I could still be so shocked. “You mean my father didn’t even tell you my name ?”
That settled it.
Any family bond with him was over . Perhaps in light of his disabusing any concept of acting like a father to hand me over as a sellable thing , feeling incredulous about the fact that he hadn’t even provided my name was a petty thing to care about.
The man only stared at me.
“Elena.” I swallowed. “My name is Elena.” Needing his approval now, I felt obligated to answer.
“Elena Morovov.”
I pulled my lower lip into my mouth and pressed my teeth down on it to avoid him seeing how it trembled.
Tears stung my eyes all over again. I shook my head.
“Not… not anymore.” I swallowed hard. “He said I’m expected go with you.
He handed me over as a… as collateral damage.
” A pathetic huff left my lips. “A thing to give up. I’m not a Morovov anymore. He decided that, didn’t he?”
He raised his brows. “You will not be a Volkov.”
I hadn’t imagined that I would be. Not one of his family. But his thing. I’d been sold to him.
“Then I guess I’m just Elena.”
Before I could lower my gaze, another man entered the backseat. Tall, with dark-brown hair, and bearing a family resemblance, he had to be another Volkov brother or cousin. I didn’t know names, but I understood that they had a large family, as most of those crime organizations did.
“Should we go, Adrik?” the other man asked.
He nodded, and the driver took off.
Facing two of them didn’t threaten me any more than just sitting here with Adrik did. In fact, the other man seemed… not kinder, but less intense.
“Miss Morovov?” he asked.
“We’ve established that she’ll go by Elena,” Adrik cut in.
The other man nodded. He opened his mouth but Adrik beat him to speaking again. “John Morovov has given you to us as a payment for his mismanagement of our accounts. A punishment for his error.”
I swallowed, hoping my voice wouldn’t be shaky. “I know. And I know those accounts shouldn’t have been flagged as having insufficient funds.”
They shared a look and watched me.
“I… He made me handle the accounting of selective clients only. But I can’t own any blame or fault for what happened to the transaction that should’ve been cleared. I double-checked it myself last night.”
The desert scenery and signs of civilization blurred by outside the windows, but nothing could pull my gaze from these two men.
“You handled the processing of those payments and transactions?” Adrik asked.
“Yes. My father never allowed anyone else to handle it.”
Adrik narrowed his eyes.
And I realized too late what a horrible mistake I’d made.
I’d just admitted that I knew about their accounts, how much money they had in them, and the nature of their transactions.
For all I could assume, those transactions were for buying hookers or dealing with nuclear bombs.
Drugs and weapons and state secrets. I never had access to details.
No names or products. But I could only guess.
And I’ve just outed myself as having this knowledge.
If they weren’t going to kill me already, they sure would now. I was a liability with even a hint of their secrets.
“What credentials and qualifications do you have to be an accountant at his firm?” the other man asked.
I furrowed my brow at him, trying to understand why he’d asked me. When my father first dropped the news that I’d be going with these men, I assumed it would be for employment. This man was hinting at the same thing.
Could that be it?
They know I handle their books now, and they want me to take over doing that directly for them?
That sounded too good to be true, though. Regardless, I listed my education and certifications that I’d received. I doubted my degrees would hold clout with them. But perhaps my honesty and willingness to work hard would dissuade them from killing me.
“I am more than happy to… to work for you. To handle whatever accounting services you need.”
Adrik smirked. “It sounds as though you’ve already been doing that.”
I nodded. “I have been. I just didn’t know the details of who any clients were.”
“Tell me a little more,” the other man said.
Talk about spreadsheets and auditing? That was easy. For the rest of the drive, I tried to give as succinct and clear of a summary as I could. Talking carefully and enunciating properly, I hoped that I was appeasing them. That they would be satisfied with my report.
The car stopped at last, but I was still too riveted on what these men would say or decide to look out the windows.
Their interrogation about the books I’d handled hadn’t felt like a test. Yet, as we sat in the parked car, I got the impression that Adrik assumed I knew more than what I was admitting.
“It’s not easy to describe with words, but if you allow me to show you on a computer, it might be easier and clearer to follow.”
“Are you suggesting that we allow her access to our books?” the man asked Adrik.
“I’m not suggesting anything. It seems that she is, though.”
Determined not to be powerless, I took this chance to vocalize such an offer. “I can. I am more than willing to review your accounts.”
My usefulness might very well be my only protection now. If they could extract a purpose from me, they wouldn’t be so quick to get rid of me, like my father had.
Adrik would see me as a thing. Something he’d gotten as a payment. But it seemed like I would be wise to secure my life by appearing to be a tool for him.
Not a body to dispose of after he’d killed me.
“Adrik?” the man asked.
“Have her stay in one of the houses.” He smoothed down his tie, indicating he was ready to get out of the car. “She’ll live on the estate where I can control and determine the debt Morovov owes us.”
I dared to let out the breath I’d been holding for the last several tense seconds.
He wasn’t killing me. Yet.
He wasn’t forcing anything on me. Yet.
All my fantasies, all the nightmares of pain and torture faded from my mind. But as I met his dark gaze again, I got sucked into the instant conviction that I would be a fool to ever think he trusted me or valued me in such a way that my fate wouldn’t seem like a curse I could never escape.