Chapter 17 Mariya
MARIYA
The door creaks as I ease it open, and I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs. The sound echoes through the quiet hallway like a gunshot, and I hold my breath, waiting for someone to come running. But there's nothing. Just silence and the faint hum of the estate's heating system.
I glance down at the guard slumped against the wall beside my door.
He's still unconscious, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths.
I hadn't expected my attack to work so well.
He'd been standing there, bored and distracted, scrolling through his phone when I'd called out that I needed help.
The moment he'd stepped inside, I'd brought the heavy base of my bedside lamp down on the back of his head.
The guilt twists in my stomach, but I push it away.
I don't have time for guilt. I need to get out of here before Andrey realizes what I've done.
My mind drifts to the kiss we shared earlier, to the soul-wrenching orgasm he gave me, then I shake my head.
Now is not the time to think about that, even though it is the reason I'm taking the risk to try and escape.
I can't marry that man!
I clutch my mother's jewelry box tighter under my arm and step into the hallway. The marble floors gleam in the dim lighting, and I move as quietly as I can, keeping close to the wall. Every shadow makes my pulse spike. Every creak of the old house makes me want to bolt.
There's no way I'm staying here. No way I'm becoming Andrey Melnikov's pawn, his prisoner wife. He can't just decide we're getting married and expect me to go along with it. I don't care how dangerous it is out there or how many other families are looking for me. I'll take my chances on my own.
I reach the top of the grand staircase and pause, scanning the foyer below. It's empty, the front door tantalizingly close. Just down these stairs, across the marble floor, and I'm free. My hands shake as I grip the banister, and I force myself to take the first step.
The wood doesn't creak. Neither does the second step. Or the third.
I'm halfway down when I see him.
Andrey steps out from the shadows beneath the staircase, his blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that freezes me in my tracks.
He's wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, his arms crossed over his chest, and there's a smile playing at his lips.
Not a friendly smile. The smile of someone who's been waiting for exactly this moment.
"Going somewhere?" he asks, his voice calm and almost amused.
"Shit," I breathe.
I spin around, ready to run back up the stairs, but the beast is there, blocking my path. His massive frame fills the staircase, and his dark eyes watch me with that same blank expression he always wears. How the hell did he get behind me without making a sound?
I'm trapped.
Panic floods through me, and I do the only thing I can think of. I turn and run down the stairs, trying to get past Andrey. If I can just make it to the door, if I can just get outside, maybe I'll have a chance.
But I don't make it three steps before his arm wraps around my waist, yanking me back against his chest. The jewelry box slips from my grip and clatters down the remaining stairs, landing with a crash on the marble floor below.
"Let me go!" I thrash against his hold, my elbow connecting with his ribs. He grunts but doesn't release me. If anything, his grip tightens.
I kick backward, my heel connecting with his shin, and he laughs, actually laughs, like this is some kind of game.
"You're feisty tonight," he says against my ear, his breath warm on my skin. "I like it."
I throw my head back, trying to hit his face, but he anticipates the move and shifts to the side. My fist swings toward his jaw, and he catches my wrist with his free hand, pinning it against my body.
"Stop fighting," he commands, but I don't listen.
I twist in his arms, managing to get one hand free, and rake my nails down his forearm. He hisses, and for a second, his grip loosens. I take advantage of it, wrenching myself away and stumbling down the last few steps.
But the beast is already there, moving with surprising speed for someone his size. How did he slip by us on the stairs without my seeing him? He catches me before I can reach the door, his hands like iron bands around my upper arms.
"No!" I struggle against him, but it's useless. He's too strong, too solid. It's like fighting against a brick wall.
Andrey descends the stairs slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. There's blood on his forearm where I scratched him, and he looks down at it with something that might be approval.
"Take her back to her room," he tells the beast.
Matvey nods once and starts guiding me toward the stairs. I try to dig my heels in, try to make myself as difficult as possible, but he just lifts me off my feet like I weigh nothing and carries me up the stairs.
"Put me down!" I shout, but he ignores me.
Andrey follows behind us, and I can feel his gaze on me the entire way. When we reach my room, the guard I knocked out is gone. Someone must have found him and moved him. Matvey sets me down inside the doorway, and I immediately try to bolt past him, but Andrey blocks my path.
"Leave us," he tells his beast.
The beast hesitates for just a second, his eyes flicking between Andrey and me, then he nods and steps out into the hallway. The door closes behind him with that familiar click of the lock engaging.
I back away from Andrey, my chest heaving with exertion and fury. "You can't keep me here. You can't force me to marry you."
"I can, and I will." He moves toward me slowly, like he's approaching a wild animal. "But I'd rather have your cooperation."
"You'll never have it." I grab the first thing I can reach, a book from the nightstand, and throw it at him. He dodges easily, and it hits the wall behind him with a thud.
"Are you done?" he asks, his voice maddeningly calm.
"Not even close." I grab another book and throw it. Then another. He doesn't even try to dodge these, just lets them bounce off his chest like they're nothing.
When I run out of things to throw, I stand there, breathing hard, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
"Why are you doing this?" My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it. "Why do you care so much about some stupid heirlooms?"
His expression darkens, and for the first time since I've known him, I see real pain flash across his face. "They're not just heirlooms. They're all I have left of my mother and sister."
The words hit me like a punch to my gut. I stare at him, seeing him differently for the first time. Not just as my captor, not just as a dangerous Bratva boss, but as someone who's lost people he loved.
"What happened to them?" I ask quietly.
He's silent for a long moment, his jaw working like he's trying to decide whether to tell me. Finally, he speaks.
"Twelve years ago, there was a massacre.
Several Bratva families were wiped out in a single night.
My mother and my sister were among the dead.
" His blue eyes bore into mine. "They were gunned down in our home while I was out handling business.
I came back to find them lying in pools of their own blood. "
My stomach twists. "I'm sorry."
"Your father was involved."
"No." I shake my head vehemently. "My father would never do something like that. He's not a murderer."
"He testified against the families responsible, but I think he knew more than he let on. I think he was part of it." Andrey's voice is hard now, cold. "And I think he stole my family's heirlooms to cover his tracks or to profit from the chaos."
"You're wrong." Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "My father isn't perfect, but he wouldn't kill innocent people. He wouldn't steal from families who'd lost everything."
"Then where is he?" Andrey demands. "Why did he disappear? Why did he hide those puzzle pieces and that map if he has nothing to hide?"
"I don't know!" The words come out as a shout. "I don't know where he is or why he did any of this. But I know my father, and he's not the monster you think he is."
We stare at each other, the tension between us thick enough to cut. I can see the doubt in his eyes, the war between what he believes and what he wants to believe.
"Marrying me will protect you," he says finally, his voice softer now. "As my wife, you'll be under my protection. Other families won't dare touch you."
"I don't want your protection." I lift my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I don't want anything from you."
"What do you want, Mariya?" He leans in closer, his hands braced on the wall on either side of my head. "To spend the rest of your life running? Looking over your shoulder? Never knowing when someone's going to find you and use you to get to your father?"
"I want my freedom."
"You'll have it. As much as anyone in our world can have." His eyes search mine. "We'll both be getting something out of this union. I get access to whatever information your father left behind. You get protection and a life that's more than just hiding in the shadows."
"I don't want to marry anyone," I whisper.
"I understand that." He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I hate the way my body responds to his touch. "But this is happening, Mariya. Friday, you're going to become my wife."
"And if I refuse?"
His expression hardens. "Then you'll marry me bound and gagged if need be."