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I nod, heart full of fury and pain, and I look at him again, risking saying something. “What are you going to do with me?”

This time he rubs his hand over the sting in my cheek that burns the place where he hit me. “Good thing my rings didn’t catch. I don’t mind bruising—I find it fun—but I don’t like… permanent damage.”

“Please. Please, Niko?—”

“Relax, Erin, pretty baby doll. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then—”

“My beef is with Demyan. You’re just a dumb pretty thing that got dazzled. But now you’re bait. At least, until I have no use for you and then…” He shrugs. “Who knows. Maybe you could warm my bed. Or one of my men’s.”

Panic flares bright.

“And Sasha?”

“I don’t want the spawn of that man.”

The bottom falls out of my world. I don’t know what that means. I don’t?—

“Stop panicking. It’s tiresome. Now someone will be down to take you to the bathroom. It’s in here, and you’ll be watched the entire time.”

Hate boils in me.

“And don’t even think of trying to run, because there are men outside the door and they’ve got orders to shoot anyone who isn’t one of them who tries to come out of here. You understand me?”

I just stare stony-faced at him.

“Do you understand, Erin?”

“Yes.” I push the word out.

He claps his hands. “Excellent. Get some rest. I’m sure you’re tired.”

He saunters away, through the door. It swings silently shut and I don’t even hear the scrape of a key.

I look around at the cold, bare room, the cell. Then I glance up. No cameras, there’s at least that.

I curl up, my chains clanking as a hot tear leaks out. But I squeeze my eyes tight, refusing to let more fall.

Oh God. What have I done? I try to regulate my breathing, try to control the panic that’s clawing at me from within.

But I’m scared, petrified. For Sasha, for the baby, and for me. And I silently pray Demyan will find me before it’s too late.

Chapter Two

DEMYAN

Anger issomething I cling to. I can use it. I know it, and there’s strength to be found in anger as long as you stay in charge.

The other thing in me?

It’s new.

Frightening.

And it threatens to bring me crashing to my knees.

I’m so fucking frantic that if I give in, I don’t know if I could function. It turns my stomach, mixes with the panic and not even the knowledge my boy’s safe back here, now in the fortress-like mansion. Extra fucking alarms. More guards, more guns, and, of course, a new head of security do nothing.