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I wake up the day after my treatments at the wellness spa and my body is aching. It feels as though the muscles beneath my skin are bruised and I chuckle to myself, thinking I should have chosen the relaxing light massage instead of the deep tissue massage. But at the end of the day, the harder the massage the better you feel in the long run.

I stretch my legs out beneath the blankets and groan as my body shudders awake.

I’m tired of waking up with nothing to do. I can’t roam around this mansion all the time. I’m so bored and being bored is the worst possible thing for me because that’s when my thoughts wander around and go to stupid places that stress me out.

I guess I need to think about Avraam and what I’ve learned about him. I need to process it to understand it. But not all the time. It makes me anxious.

And now, since last night, I have a whole new thing making me anxious and I’m annoyed about it.

Ever since Rigor told me that my brother took a woman he loves deeply—deep enough that he is willing to kidnap and use me as a tool to get her back—I’m jealous . Can you believe that?

I’m jealous of whoever this woman is that Rigor has so much love for. I want to be loved that intensely. And—I want Rigor to—

No.

That’s stupid.

I can’t think about things like that.

He loves someone else and I’m just a method of getting her back. Nothing more. I’m something to be used.

I roll towards the side of the bed and sit up, rubbing my hands against my face.

I can’t be that upset about him using me like that though. I am using him too. I’m using him to learn about my brother’s world.

Rigor isn’t what he seems. That’s the most important thing I have to understand. If I don’t understand that, my heart is going to be slipping off the deep end of trouble.

He’s dangerous, manipulative, calculating and totally in love with someone else.

“Ugh,” I huff loudly, standing up and walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You’d think I would have more important things to worry about than the fact that Rigor has a girlfriend. Like me being kidnapped. Seems way more urgent to be thinking about.

I have a long shower, taking my time because I have too much time on my hands. Then I blow dry my hair and get dressed slowly.

It’s still early when I’m done though, so I head downstairs to make a coffee and then carry it up to the library.

I’m sure I can find another book to read. At least reading is feeding my mind so I’m not completely wasting the day.

I hate the fact that I was dragged from my life. I mean, sure, no one wants to work day in and day out, slaving their life away to make ends meet—but I did like my job and the people I worked with. I wonder what they think happened to me. I miss everyone. I miss talking to people and feeling like I had things to do during the day. Even the lame things that I hated doing seems like more fun than roaming around a mansion alone.

Sighing loudly, I set my coffee down on the small side table next to the library arm chair near the window and set about hunting for a book that catches my attention.

My eyes trace over the spines, taking in the book titles and trying to decide if I want to read them or not.

My fingers reach up and touch the bold dark writing of a particularly thick book called Monsters and Myths .

I pull it from the shelf and huff as the weight of it falls into my arms.

It’s heavier than I thought.

“Do you need help with that?” Rigor asks from the doorway.

“No, I’ve got it,” I reply, sounding snappy.

“Is everything ok?” he asks cautiously.

“Not really. I’m bored out of my mind. I’m going crazy locked up in here. I can only read so much. I miss my job. I miss my life,” I blurt out my complaint knowing he won’t really care. All he cares about is getting the love of his life back from my brother.

I sigh loudly, not hiding my agitation as I carry the heavy book over to the little table and set it down with a thud next to my coffee.

I slump into the chair and then lift my eyes to glare at him.

I bite back my snappy and childish comment about how he should go get busy saving his girlfriend. Being a bitch won’t make things any better for me here.

Rigor narrows his eyes towards me.

“You’re bored,” he says.

“That’s what I said,” I huff.

“So, come help me with some paperwork. I don’t particularly like doing it and if you’re missing work this might be a good way to pass the time.”

“What kind of paperwork? For what?”

“For my business. My filing system is a wreck. I have to keep raw copies of most of the transactions for security reasons, and I’m terrible at keeping everything up to date.”

“I love filing,” I say, standing up with a sense of renewed energy. Forgetting my sassy attitude, I pick up my coffee and follow him through to his home office.

This also gives me a chance to learn more about his company which is my ultimate goal.

Rigor sits down at the desk then leans over to drag a second chair next to his. He taps the chair. “Let me show you what I’ve got together so far and then you can carry on with it,” he says, reaching into a draw and pulling out a stack of manilla folders.

I sit down next to him as he spreads them out on the desk.

His cologne drifts in the air around me and causes me to lean closer towards him. He has an extra button undone on his shirt and my eyes trace over his broad neck and the teasing start of his collar bone.

“—and then I take these and—“

“What?” I stammer, realizing I have not been listening at all. Shit. Dammit. I was completely lost in thoughts of him.

He smirks, “These, I put them alphabetically. But then the other system is filed by expense category.”

“Ok, sure, yes. Got it. Categories,” I mumble.

“Are you sure you’ve got it?” he teases me.

I shoot him a sour look and lean over to drag the files to my side of the desk. In doing so, I brush up against him and my body sparks with an electric current that spikes through me like fire.

I bite my lip and stare pointedly at the files.

He is so far behind with his system, which is a mess, that in no time at all I have stopped updating what he has and I’m creating a new, better system from scratch.

I have the files spread out on his office floor and I’m sitting cross-legged in front of them.

Rigor is walking up and down his office with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Yes. I understand that but being late is not an option,” he says sternly and the command in his voice has heat building between my legs.

The sleeves of his black shirt are rolled up over his forearms and when he flexes his fist the muscles along his arm move and I picture his hand around my throat as he pushes me against the wall.

I imagine him commanding me with that deep, seductive voice.

He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs in annoyance. A low growl rumbles from his throat. I bite my lip.

He chuckles, but it sounds dark and threatening.

“Listen to me when I tell you—being late is not an option. Solve this. Don’t call me until you do,” he growls, then hangs up the phone.

I quickly look back down at the folder in front of me and grab a random piece of paper as though I am fully focused on it.

“You really didn’t have to start from scratch. I didn’t expect you to do that—“ he says, crouching down next to me to look at what I’m up to.

My eyes trace over his thick, muscular thighs, pressed up against the fabric of his pants. Taut and solid. His entire body is like an unbreakable machine. Perfect in the way he moves and speaks and all I want to do is crawl up onto him and wrap myself around him—and ride him like—

Oh my fuck.

My cheeks burn red at the image in my mind.

“It’s ok. I enjoy this type of thing. It’s like a puzzle for my brain,” I say quickly. At least he isn’t looking at me. He’s looking down at the folders.

“Jeez, your system is way better than the one I was trying to use,” he says, looking over the piles of paperwork I have created and the scribbled pieces of paper with the temporary labels beneath each pile.

“I’m very impressed, Aly,” he says sincerely, even sounding a little surprised.

I grin, enjoying the compliment from him.

Then I scowl at myself and silently reprimand my own heart.

He’s looking at me now and his bright grey eyes are practically tearing my soul from my body. He reaches out and touches my cheek. “You’re very red. Are you ok?” he asks, looking worried.

“It’s hot—um—I should get a glass of water,” I mutter quickly while my cheeks begin to glow even more red at his touch and because he noticed my embarrassment.

“I’ll get you a bottle of water. Do you want still or sparkling? Do you need a break, maybe?” he says, standing up and looking down at me. I feel small looking up at him from the floor.

Oh the things I want him to do to me.

I wonder what the woman he loves looks like. I wonder why he loves her so much. I wonder what she has that I don’t have.

I wonder if I will ever find someone that I can fall in love with whom I feel such in intense pull towards as I do with Rigor.

What is it about him that captivates me like this?

I sigh.

He tilts his head to the side. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yup. Totally fine. I’ll have a sparkling water please,” I say in a sing song voice, sounding as casual as I can manage.

“Alright,” he replies, not believing me. But he leaves the office to go and get me some water.

Once he’s out of sight and earshot I let out a heavy, frustrated breath and press my hands over my face.

“Aly, you really need to pull yourself together,” I whisper angrily. “He’s not who you think he is. He’s using you. He’s not interested in you,” I mutter.

By the time Rigor returns, I kind of have myself pulled together.

It takes all of my focus to set my attention on the folders and nothing else. I spend the afternoon lost in piles of paperwork and documents that teach me a lot about the Bratva business, and how they launder money and conduct orders.

It’s dark outside when I stand up and stretch my arms high above my head. I hadn’t even realized that the entire day had drifted past.

Rigor comes into the office speaking on the phone.

“Sure, I can be there. Tomorrow. Yes.” He stands with his hand on his hip for a second, nodding at whoever he’s talking to. “Alright. See you then,” he says, then slides his phone back into his pocket.

“I hope you’re hungry because I ordered a feast.” He grins.

“I’m famished. What genre of food did you order?” I ask.

“Genre?” he cracks up laughing. “I’ve never heard anyone refer to food types as genres.” He carries on laughing and soon I can’t do anything but join in.

“I’ve always called it that—since I was little. My brother used to tease me about it too.” I giggle.

But the mention of my brother pulls my thoughts back into reality and I take a deep breath as anxiety flicks through me.

Rigor notices the shift in my mood. He wraps his arm around my waist and guides me towards the door. “I ordered pizza, Asian, sushi and noodles, New York style steak strips and crumbed chicken pieces.”

“Oh my word. Why in the world would you order so much?” I ask in horror.

“I couldn’t decide, and I didn’t know what you would want. I’m sure the security guys will appreciate the food too so nothing will go to waste, don’t worry.”

I follow to the kitchen where he has the takeout spread out over the counter. “I hope you don’t mind. I don’t feel like sitting down tonight. I’ve been sitting all day and my body isn’t happy about it.” He leans his hip against the counter and pulls the pizza box lid open.

He slides it over to me and I pull out a slice covered in bacon, feta and mushrooms. It smells divine.

“I completely agree. I’m happy to stand too. My butt has even gone a little numb.” I chuckle, then bite into the pizza.

“A good spanking will get the blood flowing again.” He smirks and I practically choke on the first bite of pizza I’ve barely had a chance to chew.

I stare at him in shock, my eyes wide with surprise.

That one comment has me weak at the knees and I want to sass something back at him, but my mouth is full, and I have melted cheese on my face.

I quickly wipe it away and try to hide behind the napkin.

I hear him chuckling that deliciously dark laughter of his.

Why is he flirting with me like this? It’s not fair. He has someone already. He shouldn’t tease me. Or my heart.