Page 10 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

That night, I found myself unable to sleep. After my brothers left, Gastone had turned to me with one question: Why?

He had every right to be confused by my stand. After all, I, too, found myself questioning my impulsive decision to remain by Gastone’s side as his wife. But the truth was what I had told him—I meant every word I spoke. If staying married to Gastone, our families could find peace at last.

But knowing the reason for my decision didn’t make digesting it any easier. I had willingly agreed to stay married to the man who kidnapped me.

God, what a mess.

My mind wouldn't shut up, replaying their shocked faces over and over. I'd seen actual pain in my brothers' eyes, like I'd stabbed them or something. But what choice did I have? It was either pretend to accept this farce or watch both families tear each other apart.

“You're such a moron, Elena,” I whispered to myself, turning to my side to see if I could find a more comfortable position to sleep in.

But was I really?

I replayed the scene in my mind. How angry everyone had been. When my brothers threatened to take me away with them, Gastone had declared he’d have their operation shut down within the week.

Had Gastone been bluffing, I knew my brothers well enough to expect that they would have scoffed.

But none of them did. They looked enraged, slightly afraid too, and they told him they’d hit him right back.

Gastone had dirt on us, serious dirt. And as much as I hated to admit it, my family had enemies who'd jump at any chance to take us down.

That was the moment I knew I had to put an end to this madness, because it became clear that Gastone was an equal, capable of ruining my family, more powerful than I thought.

I’d belonged to a mafia family all my life, and knew where such conflicts usually headed. Straight to death and destruction, often stemming from the fact that some of the idiots couldn't talk to each other like normal human beings.

So, if I could prevent all the death and destruction that would have taken place had I chosen to return, I decided to do all I could in my power. I decided to stay and gain Gastone’s trust.

Of course, I wasn’t a fool. I knew love and a stable, healthy marriage couldn’t be on the cards for us. But if I remained with Gastone, I could protect my family and help them.

By gaining Gastone’s trust, by staying in his proximity, I could discover his secrets and then use them against him to get what I wanted most.

An escape.

It wasn't exactly the life plan I'd had in mind, but hey, when did being a Lebedev ever come with normal problems?

***

The next morning, I woke up feeling rather morose about my situation. For a little while, I lay in bed, wondering if I should simply give up and accept my fate, but then I thought of home.

I thought of my sister-in-law, Kate, who always made sure I had my favorite coffee sent up to my room whenever I stayed with her and Caspian.

I thought of my younger sister Beatrice and how she’d always pick up something for me on every single one of her shopping sprees.

I thought of my niece Sophia and how big she must be getting every single day.

If I didn’t find a way to learn all I could about Gastone, to find some leverage to get the hell out of here, I might miss her first steps.

There was no chance I was allowing that to happen. Feeling more hopeful now, knowing what I had to lose on the line, I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed into the shower.

My plan was simple. Gastone would be out for the day. While I didn’t have access to his computer, given how he had all those passcodes, I did have access to all his files, which were stored away in various shelves and drawers. I could sift through them to gain something useful.

I was sure of it.

By the time Gastone arrived home, I’d searched every accessible drawer, cabinet, and closet in his apartment, but found nothing incriminating.

I followed the same routine for the next four days, this time sneaking into his bedroom, the living room, the smaller office room, and even the bookshelf. I was sifting through every book, hoping for something to fall out—a clue, a letter, anything.

Five days later, and I still had jack squat.

The man was frustratingly careful. And I was going stir-crazy.

The penthouse, day by day, seemed to be shrinking around me, the walls closing in. It had now been two weeks since I’d stepped outside and felt the sun on my face.

It wasn’t that I was still craving company. Since my brothers had come that day, Gastone saw no reason to keep me from communicating with them. He’d returned my phone to me, and I often spent hours on the phone catching up with my siblings and cousins.

He, too, was trying to be more present. He’d come back earlier, often suggesting we have dinner together. Even if I was exhausted, I never said no. After all, I was waiting for Gastone to slip up during conversation, to give out one tiny little secret. But he never did.

In fact, I might have been imagining it or something, but sometimes I felt as though he was keeping me at arm's length. When I decided to remain married to him and declared it so, I expected he might open up more, view me as less of a threat. But since then, he’d become weirdly civil.

There’s no more trash-talk, no more one-liners aimed to insult.

Even when I try, he sits there like a rock, not once rising to the occasion.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

Our interactions were still tense, but way, way more hostile.

Sometimes I caught him watching me with an unreadable expression, like he was trying to figure me out.

Good luck with that, buddy. I barely understand myself these days.

But the longer I stayed here, the more desperate I became to find something I could use against him.

When that option seemed to become a dead end, I started dreaming of what it might be like to sneak out for a day, to feel the sun on my face, grab a cup of coffee somewhere, and come back home safe before he returned.

I spent hours on my phone, googling security hacking systems for the front door. What did I find? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

But I had figured that the one in this penthouse was top-of-the-line. Breaking out wouldn't be easy.

But then, on day six after my brothers' visit, I hit the jackpot.

Gastone had gone out for his usual morning meeting, leaving me alone with Dom, the hulking bodyguard who now stood watch whenever Gastone was away, on the chance my brothers decided to whisk me away now that they knew where I was.

Dom was loyal to the Ajellos. I knew that much, and stayed out of my way.

Even when I tried to make conversation, he’d only give polite responses before stepping out of whatever corner I found him in.

Most days, I knew, he stood outside the door.

I'd been pretending to read on the couch when I noticed Gastone had left the small war room unlocked. The room was one for planning, plotting attacks, full of high-tech systems. It was never unlocked when Gastone was away. Never.

My heart raced. This might be my only chance.

I waited until I heard Dom head toward the kitchen, then slipped into the room.

I moved quickly through papers and drawers, looking for anything useful.

And then, in the bottom drawer, I came across various manuals and warranties. In that moment, I felt a prickle down my spine, as though I knew before time that I had hit something good. I rummaged through the papers until at last, I found it. The security system manual.

I almost kissed it.

Flipping through it quickly, I found what I needed—a factory reset code to disable and change the current code. This could work, I thought to myself.

I snapped pictures of the relevant pages with my phone, then carefully put everything back exactly as I found it. Just as I was closing the drawer, I heard Dom's footsteps approaching.

Heart in my throat, I dashed to the door and pressed my ear against it. The footsteps stopped, then receded. I waited another whole minute before slipping out and casually strolling back to the couch.

Dom gave me a suspicious look when he returned, but I smiled innocently and returned to my book.

For the next two days, I watched and waited. I needed the perfect moment when Gastone would be gone long enough and Dom would be distracted.

My chance came sooner than expected. Gastone was out for the day, and Dom received a call that seemed to upset him. I didn’t stick around to find out what happened.

Once he disappeared into the kitchen with his phone, I moved.

I grabbed my purse, went to the main security panel near the door, punched in the reset code, and held my breath. For a horrible moment, nothing happened. Then, the screen went blank before displaying “SYSTEM REBOOTING.”

I quietly opened the front door and stepped right out. Straight into freedom. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure Dom would hear it, but the kitchen was at the other end of the penthouse, and he was still talking loudly on the phone.

I couldn’t believe it. I had escaped.

***

I slipped out of the apartment complex and, after two whole weeks, felt the bright afternoon sunshine.

I swear to God, I didn’t think I knew true happiness until then.

I hadn’t even realized I’d been humming as I walked down for a while and slid into a cab, asking him to take me to the shopping street.

The whole time, I looked over my shoulder, afraid Dom would have called Gastone, afraid there would soon be a convoy on my tracks.

But I reached the street without any trouble.

At last, walking down the street, I finally allowed myself to breathe. I'd done it. I was out.

And I didn’t know what to do with my small freedom. How long had it been since I had a cup of coffee? Since I sat by and watched people pass?

With a smile, I found a small, quaint café full of artsy types. I placed an order for a cappuccino and a quiche and made my way to a table at the back of the place, where I could sit and watch people go about their day.

This was perfect. At one point in my life, I would’ve rolled my eyes at wasting my time in a place like this. Today, it felt like a privilege.

How times have changed.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like myself again. Free. In control.

The server brought my coffee, and I took a long, appreciative sip. The quiche would take a few minutes, he said. I didn't mind the wait. I was just enjoying being somewhere, anywhere, that wasn't that penthouse.

I was mentally congratulating myself on my escape when a shadow fell across my table. I looked up and nearly dropped the cup I held in my hand.

For right about then, taking a seat across from me, was none other than Gastone himself.