Page 30 of His Forced Bride

The black Mercedes winds through St. Petersburg's darkened streets.

I sit besides two of Yuri's men.

Their massive frames take up most of the back seat while I press myself against the window and try not to think about what's going to happen.

They've taken my phone, banned me from calling Alina or my mother, and I don't even have any idea what Yuri will do to me.

Pavel, the man who intercepted me in the parking garage, glances at me through the rearview mirror.

His eyes are cold, revealing nothing about what he thinks of this situation.

The other guard, whose name I never learned, stares straight ahead as if I don't exist at all.

"Where are you taking me?" I demand, but my assumption is that they're delivering me to Yuri Gravitch in person, wherever he is.

I thought leaving work thirty minutes before they were set to pick me up would be enough, that I could call my mother and she'd have her men stop by or meet me somewhere.

It isn't that I intended to ditch the meeting with Yuri—I never did.

I would've been late, though.

I wanted someone to know where I was going so if I don't surface tomorrow, they'll know who did it.

The men have been silent since forcing me into this car, communicating only through subtle nods and meaningful looks, so their lack of answer doesn’t surprise me.

The city gives way to suburbs, then to countryside dotted with estates hidden behind high walls.

We turn through iron gates that swing open automatically, revealing a long drive lined with bare trees.

At the end sits Yuri's compound—a fortress of black stone and dark glass that looks more medieval than modern.

Floodlights illuminate the grounds, revealing manicured lawns and geometric topiary that's dormant for winter.

But nothing can disguise the security features—cameras mounted on every corner, motion sensors along the fence line.

This isn't a home.

It's a prison designed to look palatial.

The car stops at the main entrance, where more men wait in dark suits.

They move in as soon as the car is in park, surrounding the vehicle before Pavel opens my door.

The night air cuts through my clothing and I hug my sweater over my chest more tightly.

I look up at the men, all armed with guns and radios, and know I'm not getting out of here by running.

Though, no one has laid a hand on me to harm me, so in that way, I'm safe for now.

"This way," Pavel says, his first words since capturing me.

I want to run, but there's nowhere to go.

The compound stretches in all directions, enclosed by walls that would require climbing equipment to scale.

Beyond them lie miles of empty countryside, and even if I made it that far, Yuri's reach extends throughout St. Petersburg and beyond.

A knot forms in my chest as I follow him through the front doors.