Page 11 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

GAbrIELLA

I set my water glass down and exhaled through my nose. Three days now, I’d been dragged out of my room for meals. For three mornings, afternoons, and evenings, I’d been “released” from my room to sit through a meal with Luka.

Luka Dubinin.

I only learned his name when a bald man who looked like a butler called for him.

Luka.

It was a bold name for a bold man.

But I filed it away. Calling him an asshole suited me just fine.

When the first thug joined us for dinner tonight, it seemed that introductions were in order.

I didn’t want to know anyone here. I couldn’t let go of this need to be out of here.

The man who helped capture me referred to Luka as Father, and at first, I wondered if that was a Mafia title thing.

It wasn’t. The more I studied them, the more their family resemblance was clearer to see.

The father and son spoke in riddles, just like Luka did every other time anyone else came near during these stupid meals in his stupid mansion.

I didn’t give a damn about their Mafia business.

I didn’t care to learn any secrets.

I wasn’t here to spy or anything like that.

Yet, they never divulged details about anything.

Belatedly facing me near the end of the meal, Luka gestured at the man I’d attacked when I faked being drugged. “Gabriella, this is my son, Emil.”

Emil gave me a cocky grin. “Oh, we’ve met.”

I didn’t reply with anything other than a glower.

“Nothing?” Luka asked me.

I stared at him. I hate you.

“Allen.”

The butler-like man came to stand next to him. “Yes?”

“Every time that Gabriella doesn’t reply to me, tally it.”

Allen nodded.

I pressed my lips tighter together.

“What’s the tally going to be for?” Emil asked. I almost could’ve thanked him. I wanted to know that too, but I was too stubborn to stop this silent treatment.

Luka didn’t take his dark, smoldering gaze off me. “That’s to be determined.”

An empty threat? Ha. I set my fork down and didn’t break eye contact.

I wouldn’t dance for him.

I wouldn’t speak to him.

Sooner or later, he’d realize I wouldn’t ever break.

It just made no sense. I couldn’t understand why he wanted me out of that room. To come eat with him? To walk around the huge mansion with him? To sit in that weird conservatory-like sunroom with the pool and hot tubs no one ever used?

I had no idea what kind of game he was playing with me. If he’d taken me from my dad to exploit me, he sure had a kink for waiting.

No matter how much time I was forced to spend near him, I couldn’t determine what I was. He hadn’t made it a secret that he owned me. That I was a possession. But for what? Why? To have me be a human trophy? A piece of décor to place in his home?

Finished with eating, Emil stood and nodded at me. “I’d say it was nice seeing you again, but, well…” He shrugged. “Your first impression lingers.”

I flipped him off.

He chuckled, and I could’ve sworn Luka almost smiled.

Seated at the table as the plates were taken away, Luka and I stayed put.

“You do remember that I own you,” he said, breaking the silence.

I sighed, resting my chin in my hand, my elbow on the table.

Like I could forget.

“I could sell you at any second.”

Uh-huh.

“I could give you to someone else and let them put up with you.”

I blinked. You think that hasn’t crossed my mind?

Moving so quickly that I couldn’t be prepared, he startled me by gripping the corner of my chair and shifting it suddenly.

The feet scraped on the floor. My hair whipped into my face.

I’d been seated to his right, my chair perpendicular to his.

Now, with his jerky movement, I was leaning forward, nearly nose-to-nose with him.

I held my breath. I locked down, too tense to dare to exhale as I focused on his heated stare.

“Nothing to say to that?” he asked in a low, gruff growl.

I licked my lips, hating how I stared at his.

He wouldn’t beat me at this game. He wouldn’t make me break. I would get out of here, and I would do so without defeat.

Another long stare-down tormented me. He didn’t push, he didn’t demand. Only watching me like this, so close and in a bubble of our own, he tested me.

What?

What is it?

What do you see? What do you want to see in me? You say you own me but you don’t. You never will. Why can’t you just give up and let me go?

Getting sucked into his orbit would be the stupidest thing I could do.

That was why I resisted, why I fought. It was why I stubbornly protested how my body reacted.

In my mind, I could be strong and stand up to him.

I could carry on without talking to him.

But under his dark, hungry gaze, I reacted.

My nipples stiffened.

An ache blossomed and spread from between my legs.

And this illogical and nonsensical need to close the distance between us just so I could feel him was shredding my patience.

“Or…” He leaned in to grab the armrests of my chair to drag me closer yet. “Are you getting used to how I put up with you?”

Lifting my head, I met his gaze and scowled.

No.

You won’t win.

You won’t break me.

No matter wh ? —

“Come.” He stood, almost chilling me with the absence of his body so close to me. He hadn’t touched me, not really, but just being this near him, I felt all the warmth emanating from his big body.

On his feet, he straightened his jacket and extended his hand toward me.

I’m not a dog.

I’m not a thing to order to heel, goddammit!

Yet, I stood. All I could do was let him feel my ire in the intensity of my stare.

“I’ve explained to Allen that you have permission to be in my personal wing.” Leading me up the stairs from the vast dining room and open floor plan of the first floor, he carried on. “I’ve already asked the staff to relocate your things.”

What?

Wait.

What?

Personal wing? Like, your bedroom? You expect me to sleep with you now? Keeping all these questions unspoken burned me. I was itching to blurt them out. More clarification was necessary, but I refused to ask. He could design any damn game he wanted with me, but I wouldn’t play along.

“You will reside in the room next to mine.”

Oh, thank God. I exhaled in relief, letting my shoulders sag. He must have noticed from the hand he held. Glancing back at me, he raised his brows.

Even though he was changing things up by having me be closer to him, he didn’t make any other move to suggest he wanted to own me in any other way. He was still gone for hours. Sometimes, I wouldn’t see him at all during the day. Only late at night.

And still, I refused to speak to him.

I’d dance in my room, then wait for a sign that I could be free of this.

When he wasn’t near, I’d overhear the staff. Emil was often around. He hadn’t warmed up to me. Nor had Ivan, the man who’d first pulled a gun on me here. He was Luka’s nephew. Another nephew, Alexsei, seemed familiar, and I realized he’d also been in on my capture.

Guards and soldiers always talked in code or riddles. But one night when I was dancing in my room, a guard burst in.

I jumped back, nearly tripping over my own feet as the bloodied man staggered inside. He grunted, holding his head like he was lost and confused. With the clarity of a memory to guide me, I knew instantly that he was high. Drugged. Not with it.

As he latched his gaze on me, he squinted and lifted his bloody arm to aim a gun at me.

“No!” I backed up, hiding behind a chair as he sluggishly advanced toward me.

Holding my hands up, as if that would magically ward him back, I retreated until I was cornered by the windows.

All locked. Everything was locked. There was no escape for me—ever.

Even now, as this dazed and drugged man pursued me, talking in Russian gibberish.

“Get back!” I ordered, terrified that he would be so out of it as to shoot me.

“Get down!”

Luka’s voice roared. He was there, rushing in after the man.

More shouts spewed from him, then another, but I couldn’t tell who was in my room now.

I dropped to the floor as instructed. Crouching low and ducking to cover my head, I tried to make myself as small as I could, into as tight of a ball as I could.

The sounds of a struggle reached me, nonetheless.

Grunts. Thuds of flesh against flesh. Moans.

And growls. I couldn’t tell who was where and what was going on.

All I knew for a fact was that like this, here, I was powerless.

I was hopeless, and it was with that sobering fact that I hugged myself and prayed this wasn’t the end.

“It can’t be the end,” I muttered to myself just as strong arms wrapped around me.

I squeaked, shaking my head and keeping my eyes closed as I was lifted off the floor. Carried up and walked backward, I refused to open my eyes and see that I would be taken. Or killed. Or hurt.

“Can’t be the end,” I muttered again, shaking my head. “Not done. My dream… Not the end yet…”

Fingers bit into my upper arms, then I was shaken. “Stop.”

Luka.

I blinked, gazing at him as he walked me further into my room. Behind him, the sounds of a struggle continued, but it wasn’t any episode of danger toward me. Emil and another guard dragged the drugged man away. They were handling the situation. They were taking the intruder away.

“Gabriella.”

Luka’s smoky voice barely reached me. He sat on my bed, keeping me on his lap as he watched me. “Gabriella.” Again, he shook me.

But I wasn’t jarred.

I was too coiled up. Too tense. Too overwhelmed with the stress of being kidnapped, captured. Then the endurance to maintain this silent treatment and never show weakness.

When that man burst in, it was the most direct example of violence I’d faced yet.

Just like when Tony tried to rape me.

Just like when I was snatched out of the apartment.

It was just too much.

Locked in this trauma response, I could only stare back at Luka.

He framed my face, forcing me to address him. “Gabriella.”

I swallowed, dizzy from the panic attack of someone in here and the dreadful worry that I’d be dead.

“Not done yet,” I whispered, almost drunkenly.

“It is done. He’s gone. He slipped away and is still too… It is done,” he commanded. “You’re not in danger.”

I nodded feebly, wishing I could believe him. I wasn’t in danger from whoever that bloodied, wounded, drugged man was. But I was very much in danger from him .

Like this, Luka stared at me with concern. Not expectations.

Alone in here with me, Luka watched me out of worry. Not irritation.

“I meant…” I cleared my throat. My voice was scratchy from the lack of use.

“What?” He didn’t release me, and the more I acclimated to the hardness of his body serving as an anchor for me, I didn’t want him to. “What did you mean?”

“I meant that my life can’t be over yet.” I licked my lips and lowered my gaze.

He lifted my face again until I was stuck in his dark stare. “No. It’s not. Not on my watch.”

I huffed. Then I laughed once more. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He furrowed his brow.

“You can’t win like that.”

The lines on his brow deepened. “What?”

“That’s… That’s cheating. You got me to talk.”

He sighed, lightening up. “For fuck’s sake.” As I tried to stand, preferring fighting with him to letting him see me weak and vulnerable, he tightened his hold on me again. “Stop. Enough with the silence.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I will not let anyone harm or kill you here.”

I frowned. “What about this tally system? When I don’t reply?”

He smirked. “Don’t think you can get away with changing the subject right now. You were scared.”

“You won’t hear me admit that.”

“Fine. I respect that. In fact, don’t admit it. Always guard your words.”

I laughed once, wryly. “Why do you think I haven’t been giving you any of my words?”

He gave me a hard glare. “No more silence.”

“Fine.” I doubted he’d kidnapped me to hear me talk, anyway.

“What were you saying?” he asked, undeterred. “About not being done.”

I shrugged, sheepish that I’d said anything in my moment of fear.

“Just that I’m not ready to die. I’m only twenty-two.

I used to think that I had my whole life ahead of me.

” I narrowed my eyes. “Which is clearly false. That’s why it’s ironic that you’d tell me that my life isn’t over on your watch. ”

“Are you doubting that I will keep what is mine safe?”

Does he even realize how he objectifies me and makes me a thing and not a person?

“No. But it’s bullshit to call this ”—I gestured at the room—“a life. I’m a captive… whatever. Hell, I don’t know what I am. A thing. A possession. A… hostage?”

“I’m not negotiating with anyone to release you,” he stated plainly.

“Okay, then I’m back to square one of having no clue why you’re keeping me here.” Now I stood. Then I took a step away. He was too tempting to lean on and the fact remained that I could only count on myself.

How the hell can I lean on you when you’re the reason I’m here at all?

“I am keeping you because your father owed me.”

“Great.” I flung my arms up. “Great. I’m a transaction.” I backpedaled toward the bathroom, hoping a long, hot shower could reset my head straight again after that scare and Luka’s comfort. “I’m a thing that was traded in a business transaction. Got it. Thanks for clearing that up.”

“What do you want to be?” he demanded, getting to his feet and following me as I beat a hasty retreat.

“What?” I stopped, pissed that he’d tease me. “Don’t be this cruel. You won’t release me. You just said it yourself. What point is there to sharing my dreams with you when they won’t happen?” Before he could reach me, I slammed the door shut and locked it.

He could break in. I knew he could. He owned this big-ass mansion.

But he didn’t. I stood there staring at the door for a moment until I heard him leave.

After starting the shower and getting in, I shook my head and dismissed the possibility that he could actually care .