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He’d found me.

After all my attempts to get away from him, he’d still found me.

I sat in the front passenger seat, absently chewing on my nails, my heart hammering in my chest as the imposing gates looming ahead of us parted. The car glided through the serpentine driveway with towering trees on both sides of the road. Manicured lawns and gardens adorned the vast expanse of land as the moon cast its ethereal glow over the compound.

A few minutes into the drive, my gaze fell upon the mansion up ahead, its grandeur striking a discordant note within me. My throat felt dry, and my heart paused for a moment as I drank in the dark aesthetics of this mansion. This was what he called home, a place that looked like a scene right out of a horror movie?

The building’s facade was a masterclass in intimidation, with narrow windows and rows resembling empty eyes that seemed to stare back at me with cold indifference. Lampposts were positioned at strategic points of the expansive space, their dim flickering lights casting eerie shadows over the compound.

Maybe it was my eyes or my own fears getting the better of me, but I swore, the roof—a gothic spire—looked like a fucking living thing, twisting and writhing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was some creature awakened from an ancient slumber.

And then there were the gargoyles, their stone faces twisted into grotesque grimaces with eyes glowing like lanterns in the night. From their open mouths, water spilled like a fountain, creating a melancholy melody that echoed through the stillness of the silent compound.

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, and my pulse spiked, my heart racing in my slowly heaving chest. I’d seen a couple of horror movies in my lifetime, and I could swear that this was taken right from one. I was in deeper trouble than I thought, and now I couldn’t help the growing fear inside me.

It was almost like I could sense the evil oozing from the very building itself, the bad aura that seemed to warn me away. I wouldn’t be surprised if this place were haunted by the stray souls of all the men Daniel had sent to an early grave.

The car drew closer, and I caught sight of the entrance: a massive wooden door adorned with iron hinges and a heavy-looking knocker. The creepiest part of the knocker was its serpentine shape, coiled like a giant snake, poised to strike. Nothing spooked me more about this place than that knocker design. Regular mansions had knockers in the shape of a snarling lion’s head. This was a little extreme, and it scared the shit out of me.

Tremors sprinted down my core as Daniel brought the car to a stop beside a fountain. He killed the engine and turned to face me. “We’re here,” he said, an evil smirk playing on his lips.

I watched him open the door and step out into the cold night, hesitating by the giant entrance as if waiting for me to get out of the car. I rubbed my sweaty palms over the fabric of my dirty dress, my jaw tightening in an attempt to gather some courage. With a deep sigh, I opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, the massive building looming over me.

This was no home for me. No. It was nothing but a prison, one that I was about to be trapped in. I stood by the fountain on my cold feet with quaking knees as my heart continued to pound like a drum. The moment I stepped into that building, there most likely would be no coming back; I’d be accepting my fate if I did that.

Tears stung my eyes, and I looked back at the driveway, which seemed to stretch on forever. There was no way in hell that I was going to escape this place tonight anyway. His men were all over the place, their cars, too—a convoy parked here and there by the entrance. It’d be stupid not to go in at this point. I sniffled, wiped my tears with the back of my hand, and took that bold step forward.

Daniel’s lips curled into a triumphant grin as he watched me walk up to him, my eyes filled with hatred and disdain. “Glare at me all you want. It won’t change anything,” he whispered in my ear as I halted in front of him.

His words pierced my heart like a knife. They also fueled my rage. But he retained his smirk, ignoring the frown on my face as he walked away. Reluctantly, I followed him after taking one last look at the world I was leaving behind.

Inside, my eyebrows jerked up as the stark contrast between the eerie exterior and the opulent interior struck me. The well-lit foyer opened up into a lavish living room enveloped by rich, honey-colored lights from the hanging chandeliers. The scent of polished wood, fine, rich leather, and the faintest hint of cigar wafted through the air, mingling with a delicious aroma from a nearby kitchen. My stomach growled in protest, a gentle reminder that I hadn’t had anything to eat yet—but food was the least of my problems right now.

My gaze wandered over the plush furniture, couches and sofas upholstered in a deep, velvety burgundy that screamed luxury. The walls were adorned with framed paintings and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf at a corner, crafted from a rich, dark wood. The entire space was decorated to perfection, exuding an air of sophistication and style. Based on my judgment of the mansion from its creepy exterior, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of surprise; Daniel’s taste in luxury was far more elegant than I had expected. Maybe I judged this book by its cover.

How could something so dark and eerie on the outside be so bright and cozy on the inside?

I was shocked to my bones at the incredible sight in front of me, but I couldn’t let him see that. His mansion’s interior might be impressive, but his personality was nowhere close.

Two maids dressed in black and white uniforms approached us, their expressions unreadable. One seemed to be in her mid or late fifties, with fine black hair styled in a neat bun. Her hazel eyes locked on me, and her expression softened ever so slightly with something that resembled a smile playing on her lips. The other was younger, maybe my age or slightly older, with blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders like a river of gold. Both women were beautiful in their unique ways, and for some inexplicable reason, the older woman’s gaze made me feel…safe? Maybe not that, but something close to it.

“Mr. Tarasov,” the older woman greeted, both women bowing their heads in reverence. Her Russian accent laced her tone, adding a sense of originality to her speech. “Welcome back, sir.”

He nodded, saying something to her in the Russian language, and both women immediately shifted their gazes back to me. My brows knitted together, lost as I wondered what he’d just said to them about me.

“Understood,” the older woman said to him, taking a step toward me. “You’ve had a long day. Come with me so you can have a warm bath.”

That wasn’t such a bad idea. I was reeking of sweat anyway and in desperate need to freshen up.

Wait a minute—she’d called him Mr. Tarasov.

My heart sank into my stomach at the realization of my captor’s identity. Daniel Tarasov. His first name hadn’t rung a bell initially. And although Liam had said Daniel and his men were Russian Bratva, I was too riled up to have pieced it together. The Tarasov Bratva was responsible for crashing my wedding. Of all the mafia gangs in the city, I was entangled with the worst of the worst.

Fuck! Things just got even more complicated.

Daniel left me with the maids and walked over to sit on a couch, one leg crossed over the other. He glanced back at me one more time before turning his face away. I swallowed hard against the dryness in my throat and followed the maids up the double-curved staircase, its chandelier casting warm glows over our features.

The maids led me to the master bedroom, a symphony of opulence adorned in rich drapes that shimmered like moonlit silk. The marble floor was polished to a shine, and a majestic four-poster bed dominated the room’s center. Crystal sconces cast warm, golden lights that enveloped the entire space, adding to the luxurious ambiance of the room.

“This way, miss,” the older woman said, gesturing toward a door that I was certain led to the bathroom.

I followed, eager to wash off the trouble of the day that clung to me like a second skin. My body was already itchy, and I hadn’t felt so dirty and unkempt before. Inside, the bathroom was a marble-clad oasis with gleaming white stones covering every surface—floors and walls alike. A massive, freestanding tub stood regally, dominating the space with its curved, golden features that invited relaxation. A kaleidoscope of colors from the hanging chandelier danced through the faucets, adding a sense of warmth and comfort to the space.

“Would you like us to bathe you, miss?” the younger maid asked, her voice soft and polite.

What am I, a child? I thought to myself but replied with a simple, “No, thank you.”

“We’ll be outside if you need us,” the older woman said, her full lips curling into a faint grin.

She led the way, and they both left the bathroom, gently shutting the door behind them.

I drew a deep breath, my fingers moving mechanically as I shed my stained and torn wedding gown. The ruined dress slid off my body and fell loosely at my feet, exposing my nakedness. I raised my head and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the full-length mirror before me. Dirt smudged my face, and a few scratches and bruises marred my leg. My whole body was aching, prompting a reflexive groan from my lips. My gaze dropped to the floor where a faint smudge of blood remained, reminding me of the minor cut beneath my left foot, and I winced in memory of the pain.

I stepped away from the mirror, my hands darting to my head. My fingers combed through my tangled red hair as I stepped into the waiting tub. Like a gentle hug, the warm water enveloped me, soothing my frazzled nerves. I felt the tension ease a bit, my muscles relaxing as I slid in deeper. With closed eyes, I released a soft sigh, letting the water cradle me, calming my racing thoughts. As the warmth seeped into my bones, I felt my breathing slow, my heart steadying by the minute.

The sensation was almost medicinal, washing away the grime and stress of the day.

Ironic how this bath was the only good thing that happened to me on this fateful day.

I silenced the voices in my head, and my mind was as still as the night itself as I let the water work its magic. I drew a long breath and sank into the tub, my eyes narrowing as water bubbles escaped my lips. I could hold my breath for about a minute and a half, so lying underwater and enjoying the fleeting peace and quiet it provided wouldn’t be a big deal.

Once I had washed myself with a nice fragranced soap and shampooed my hair, I felt a sense of renewal. Physically, my body was refreshed, but the warm bath did little to improve my emotional and mental state.

Water dripped from my wet body as I stepped out of the tub, my feet resting on the cool, treacherously slippery floor. With caution, I glided over to a hanger and helped myself to two white towels. I wrapped one around me, and with the other, I dried my hair and wrung it over my head.

I left the bathroom and returned to the master bedroom, where I met the two maids standing by the four-poster bed, their attention shifting to me. The older woman beamed at me, gesturing toward a white silk nightgown—lingerie. My eyes squinted, and I asked, my voice hoarse, “What’s that for?”

The two women exchanged glances, uncomfortable by my glare and the frown on my face.

“It’s, uh….” The older one cleared her throat. “It’s a little something to spice up your wedding night.”

Unbelievable.

My brows shot up in shock, my expression darkening as I realized just how ruined my wedding night was. This wasn’t how I thought today would end at all, and it shattered my heart, charging my tear glands.

I tightened my jaw, replacing my pain with hate and anger. “I’d like to be left alone now,” I said to them, my voice stern but polite.

Without hesitation, they picked up the pace and exited the room, leaving me to my thoughts.

There was no way in hell that I was going to let that man touch me tonight—no way. He’d have to kill me first. The mere thought of that alone irritated me, and I could feel my hatred for him growing by the second.

I couldn’t continue to live like this. No. There had to be a way out of this situation, and I was determined to find it by any means necessary. This wasn’t my life, so I refused to accept it.