Chapter 7 - Lilia
Once I calmed down enough that I could stand up without my knees giving out, I wrapped a blanket around myself and started searching the room Gavril had put me in.
It was important not to think about the man who put me here and what he might have in store for me, so I concentrated on what was right in front of me.
It was a luxurious room, decked out with a big bed with a velvet tufted headboard, rather like one I had been eyeing when Katie urged me to redecorate my space however I wanted. This was a deep teal, while I thought I might want a rose pink. I shook my head, dragging myself back to the present.
Despite the fine art in gilded frames on the wall, the modern glass desk, and plush velvet chairs arranged around a marble fireplace, this wasn’t a hotel I had checked into.
I was forcibly brought here, and the last thing I should do was relax.
Something worse than being sold to the highest bidder probably waited for me when Gavril returned.
My throat was tight when I tried to swallow my rising fear. After all, that big, imposing man, dressed like royalty, hadn’t rescued me. He bought me, and therefore, he had to believe he owned me.
No, I didn’t like that one bit, and it stiffened my resolve to get out.
The door was locked from the outside, something I knew about from my own cousins keeping certain “guests” in line.
Maybe they didn’t want to kill them, but they certainly weren’t free to go.
There was also nothing I could use for a weapon.
No sturdy, iron fireplace tools to bash with, and the toilet brush I found discreetly tucked away under the bathroom cabinet wouldn’t do much more than make him dissolve into laughter if I wielded it at him.
The windows were also locked, and I was in no mood to enjoy the view of the beautiful garden spread out below me.
I was exhausted and worn down now that most of my self-directed rage had died out.
Yes, I should have been more prepared for something like this, but there was nothing I could do about my shortcomings now.
I had to hang on, find a way to survive, and get word to my family that I was still alive and needed help.
Even though I was mentally and physically drained, falling asleep in my precarious position was impossible. I was pacing the length of the suite when the lock clicked. Freezing, I stood as tall as possible, only to be faced with a stern, older woman who was laden down with a tray of food.
My first instinct was to hurry to help her, but I stayed still while she set it on the small table between the two armchairs, nodded at me, and hurried out.
Like Persephone, I figured I shouldn’t eat anything from my enemy, but also like the heroine of my favorite Greek myth, I was freaking hungry.
Getting kidnapped apparently builds up an appetite.
Fine. A couple of bites. People like Gavril Bocharov didn’t use poison when they wanted someone dead.
They liked to draw it out and hear the screams. Even that macabre thought didn’t spoil my appetite when I lifted the silver dome and the rich scent of lamb pelmeni wafted up to me.
The sight of the Russian dumplings made my mouth water, and I sat down and dug in, forgetting my promise to only take a few bites.
Katie was an excellent cook and could make many Russian meals almost as well as my grandmother, but Aleks and Alina preferred hearty American fare, so it had been a while since I had a traditional dish.
Soon after I cleaned the plate, the door opened again, and Gavril stepped in, seeming to steal all the air in the room. I slammed the lid onto the tray, but not before he noticed I had eaten every last bite. His lips curled into a smirk, gone almost immediately as he looked me over.
I tried to keep a blush from rising. The bathroom was well stocked, but didn’t have a bathrobe, or I would have put it on. As it was, I stuffed the disgusting lingerie into the small trash bin and kept myself wrapped in the blanket while I paced.
A corner had fallen down, only revealing my shoulder, but I could still feel his eyes burning a trail across my skin.
There was no way my eyes weren’t still puffy and my cheeks still red after my extreme panic attack, but I tipped up my chin and looked somewhere over his left shoulder, pretending I wasn’t on the verge of breaking down again.
He stayed in the doorway, still considering me, not taking a step further into the room. Could it be that he was scared of my waterworks? A sarcastic laugh burst from my throat.
“You don’t have to treat me like a skittish deer,” I said.
He continued to eye me, and the way he looked at me had me on edge, but this time it wasn’t from fear.
It had to be shock, because how else could I consider this guy good-looking?
He was my enemy, was probably right now determining how best to wring agonizing moans of pain out of me, but yes, I still found him extremely attractive.
Tall, dark, and handsome, with green eyes that caught my slightest movement. Older, distinguished, and still dressed impeccably. He was exactly what I pictured of every romantic lead in all my favorite books. The very definition of a silver fox.
Except, more like a wolf.
Why wouldn’t he say something to break this terrible tension? I was all out of nervous laughter, and my throat closed up, not letting me demand to know what he wanted from me. Probably because I didn’t want to know.
His silent perusal was interrupted by a buzz from his jacket pocket. He took out his phone, those piercing green eyes never leaving me, and answered the call. A hint of satisfaction flickered across his face as he ended the call without saying another word.
“Come downstairs,” he said, half turning to walk out the door.
Now that he wasn’t yelling angrily, his voice was rich and smooth. Commanding, yet calming. More like hypnotizing. I blinked and shook my head.
“I’m fine where I’m at,” I choked out.
With an eye roll, he moved swiftly toward me. “We’re going downstairs,” he repeated.
He’d carried me from the auction. He carried me into his house and upstairs. He made it very clear without telling me that he’d carry me back down to wherever we were going if I didn’t comply. The way it felt to be in his arms wasn’t exactly a bad memory, which was bad in itself.
Anger at his imperious attitude and superior strength warred with the idea that I could still keep my dignity.
I thought he was rescuing me at the time, after all, and did not want him picking me up again.
I jumped up and scampered after him, ducking the firm hand he put on my arm.
He looked me over with a scowl and sighed, tugging me in the opposite direction and into another bedroom.
It was even bigger and more lavishly furnished than mine, but with more masculine decor.
Oh God. His bedroom. So much for dignity. I started to sink. Keeping a grip on my arm, he pulled me into the massive closet and propelled me toward the back, where several women’s outfits hung behind all the custom suits.
To my utter shock, he turned around, waiting for me to put something on.
Confused as hell but grateful to have something more than a blanket to cover me, I grabbed the first thing and pulled the simple cashmere dress on over my head.
It would have looked a whole lot better with proper undergarments, but I wasn’t about to ask.
His eyes swept me again, pupils dilating when they rested on my chest. I was petite, but well-endowed, as my mother liked to say.
Without a bra, I was pretty much on full display under the soft, clingy fabric.
The way his eyes roamed me made me shiver, but I only stared straight ahead and didn’t cover myself with my arms.
Still silent as a tomb, he tugged me back out of the room, down the stairs, and outside.
I kept my eyes peeled, but of course, there was no means of escape.
Discreet guards were posted at regular intervals as we moved farther onto the property, past the manicured garden and pool.
My nerves weren’t exactly settled since he came to fetch me, but they kicked into overdrive the further we got from the house.
I knew what my cousin kept at the outskirts of his property, as well as exactly what the shed was used for.
Sure enough, we eventually arrive at a small, squat building, similar enough to Aleks’s torture shed that my heart started beating double time. Weak with fear, Gavril had to tighten his grip on my arm as he opened the door and nudged me through.
Simon was there, the guard who betrayed my family. He looked quite a bit worse than he did after the few punches he voluntarily took to throw Aleks off after handing me over. His swollen, bruised eyes caught mine, and he made an unintelligible noise before looking away.
If he felt bad, I hoped so. If he was scared witless just then, I really hoped so.
Gavril let go of my arm. “Explain to me how you came to be in the hands of the auctioneers.”
I took a breath, pointed to Simon. “He was supposed to be my guard. I don’t know how he tricked my family into trusting him, but he brought me to those men.”
The words were barely out when Gavril raised his arm and shot Simon through the head.
His body slumped over as far as his bindings would allow.
I didn’t have time to blink, and the sound of the gunshot reverberating against the metal walls of the shed still rang in my ears as Gavril led me back toward the house.
I was stunned into silence until we were more than halfway there, then wondered if this was a rescue effort, after all. “Are you going to return me to my family?” I asked.
No answer, only more stony silence as he picked up the pace.
Perhaps I should have been sent reeling at the sight of the sudden execution, but sadly, it wasn’t the first I had seen.
I didn’t enjoy them, wished the world was the sort of place where they didn’t have to happen, but was I sorry that Simon was dead?
Hell, no. And honestly, Aleks would have drawn the guard’s suffering out a lot more.
Gavril remained silent until we reached the double doors leading from the garden into the house. He paused and looked down at me, finally answering my question.
“I’m going to keep you safe my own way.”
I had nothing to say to that, fresh confusion and more questions swirling in my mind.
Inside the house, waiting in the grand entry hall was a priest, tall and gaunt, clutching a prayer book.
Beside him stood a woman wearing a stiff cardigan over a staid sweater and trousers that looked like they’d snap into pieces instead of fold.
A guard stood off to the side, messing around on his phone until he spotted Gavril.
“Everything’s ready, sir,” he said.
The woman handed Gavril some papers to sign, then he handed the clipboard to me.
My eyes skated over the blur of words, my dad’s warnings coming back to ring in my ears.
Never sign anything without reading it first. Gavril pushed the pen into my hand and guided it to the line next to his, giving me a meaningful look.
Sign it. I did.
With his arm locked around my shoulder, he moved me to stand beside him, facing the priest, with the woman on one side of us and his guard on the other. I was so dazed I didn’t snap to what was going on until the priest uttered that Gavril could now kiss his bride.
What? I jerked my head down as he leaned over, feeling his lips brush against my hairline. I staggered back, ready to bolt, but he caught me by the wrist. The priest and his assistant, as well as the guard, all took off as fast as they could.
They knew I wasn’t a willing participant, and it didn’t matter. Some church must have gotten a hefty donation, or maybe an entire new building, for this insanity to be possible. I knew it happened, but to me?
When Gavril didn’t force the kiss after I dodged him, I looked up to find him waiting for me to respond in some manner. Okay, I would do that.
“What the hell?” I asked. I was actually married to Gavril Bocharov? “What is this even for?”
“I was only able to take you out of that auction without causing severe backlash by telling those men you were my fiancé,” he said, eyes boring into mine.
“You’ve never heard of a long engagement?” I yelped, beyond fear at that point.
“If they don’t truly believe it, there will be retaliation,” he said, expressionless, like a shark. “There still might be. Like I said, I’m keeping you safe.”
“All you have to do to keep me safe is return me to my family,” I told him, all but pleading. His eyes wouldn’t leave mine, and I couldn’t look away.
A flicker of a smile crossed his face as he leaned closer. “This way is more fun for me, though.”
The fear was back. My insides turned to ice.