Page 5

I stick my head into the fridge just to keep from screaming in frustration.

Timofey was my ticket out of here, my best hope for a quick escape, and he just walked out the door.

Leaving me alone with Matvei. I can’t stay in the fridge forever—it’s pretty bare bones, actually, and I wonder who’s responsible for the grocery shopping around here—but I’m still seething, and the last thing I want to do is face that man. My husband.

The words twist my gut into knots, and I almost laugh out loud at how absurd it is that, in the eyes of the law, I’m a married woman now. Married to the leader of a crime family that wants to destroy mine. I pull out a sad, bruised apple and finally shut the door, coming face to face with Matvei.

Despite the circumstances, my body reacts to the sight of him.

He’s just so damn good-looking. With all that muscle, I just know he could throw me around in the bedroom.

Such a shame he’s a complete bastard who only pretended to be attracted to me for the sake of this kidnapping. That’s what hurts the most: my pride.

“I was hungry,” I cut in, before he can open his mouth. “You locked me in that room and forgot about me, didn’t you? Is that how it’s going to be? You’re just going to let me starve in there until my family gives in and does whatever you want them to?”

His nostrils flare, and he actually looks offended. “Calm down, Anya. I didn’t forget about you. Something came up that required urgent attention. I had every intention of having food sent up to your room.”

What a fucking liar. I bite into the apple because I really am starving.

How long has it been since I last ate? Time is a blur.

That long night at the club and the drive to the wedding, then coming back here and everything with Matvei…

it might be close to twenty-four hours since my last proper meal.

I snort a laugh. “Urgent, is that right? Then why did Timofey say you were taking a nap? Real urgent, asshole.”

Matvei holds up a hand to block as I whip the mushy apple past his head. It bounces uselessly to the ground and rolls across the kitchen floor, coming to rest beneath the island. “Did that make you feel better?” he asks, arching one black eyebrow.

“Don’t change the subject. Were you napping while I was trapped in that room, starving?”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, I was napping. I won’t lie about it. I needed an hour or two of rest after that all-nighter.”

“I cannot believe you.”

Kidnapping me, forcing me into a marriage, and then forgetting about me so he can take a nap? There’s a knife block to one side that is looking really tempting right now. Only a few problems with that plan.

First of all, this house is huge, which means I have no real way of knowing how many people are sharing it with us right now.

It could be packed full of his crew just waiting to jump me if I so much as move toward the door.

Second, Matvei is huge. All of my training won’t help me if he gets his hands on me before that knife is plunged into his chest. On the bright side, I’m worth more to him alive than dead, so he probably won’t turn around and stab me back. No guarantees, though.

He passes a hand over his face, and I recognize the gesture, having seen it on my brothers’ faces more times than I can count.

Exhaustion. Stress. Worry. The miasma of problems that come from running a family like this.

But he’s not getting an ounce of my pity because this right here is a mess of his own making, and I’m not going to make it easy on him.

I’ve got two options. I could make his life a living hell whenever I have the chance, try to be more trouble than I’m worth. Or I could try to sweet-talk my way into his heart. Once he’s softened toward me, I strike.

“I’ll order whatever you want, right now,” he says, holding up his phone between us. “Just get back up to your room and stay put.”

I cross my arms over my chest. The few hours I’d already spent in that room were more than enough for me. A locked door makes any place, no matter how nice, feel like a prison.

“You think I’m just going to stroll back into my own jail cell for a hot meal?

You seriously have no respect for me, do you?

I’m a Milov, mother fucker. My family could eat yours for breakfast. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?

” I jab my finger into his chest and instantly regret it.

It’s as hard as a rock. “Because you knew you couldn’t take us on without fighting dirty.

Kidnapping, forced marriage? Real low. I hope you’re so proud of yourself. ”

He ignores my finger like it’s nothing more than a buzzing gnat. “I did what I had to do for my family.”

“Don’t hide behind ‘family,’” I scoff.

“Like you do?” His onyx eyes flash. “The littlest Milov, the spoiled princess of the family. Tell me, little Anya, have you ever had blood on your hands? Have you ever sacrificed for your beloved family, or have you only sheltered behind their name, enjoying the fruits of their blood harvest?”

It hits way too close to home. All of my frustrations with my brothers’ short leash erupt out of me, and they’ve only got one place to go: right at my husband. Before I think of the pros and cons, I recoil and slap him across the face.

He brings up a hand to block, but it’s too late, just in time to soften the blow but not stop it entirely. The temperature in the room drops ten degrees. I back away, heart thudding like a bass drum in my chest.

There’s a door to my right, the one I came in from, that leads back into the main house.

There’s another door past Matvei’s back that leads who knows where, but it could be a side entrance and my best chance of getting out of here before he retaliates.

A blow like that from a man his size could knock me out cold.

His hand drops slowly to his side. “Did that make you feel better, princess?”

The knife block is looking amazing right now. “A little bit, husband .”

The bastard actually smiles. “That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Come now, wife, let’s get you back upstairs and some food in your stomach. I see you do not handle hunger well. In the future, I’ll see the princess always has food available.”

“Call me that one more time,” I dare him, but with no real idea of what I’ll do if he does. I’ve just shown exactly how powerless I am against him.

“Do you prefer ‘wife’?” He walks past me, close enough that I feel the air move, and opens the door leading back into the house. “Come along.”

There’s no hesitation in the demand. He expects to be obeyed.

Knows he will be. A shiver passes through me, even though the house is pleasantly warm.

No matter what I do, he doesn’t waver. I could slap him, go behind his back to sway one of his men, or challenge his pride, and he’ll just shake it off like raindrops.

My stomach growls. Loudly. I press the palms of my hands into it to quiet it down. Clearly, a hunger strike isn’t happening. If I refuse to walk, he’ll just pick me up and carry me to my room, and I just don’t know if my dignity can handle that blow right now when it’s already paper-thin.

He’s holding the door for me. I keep as much space between us as I pass by, out into the main house, and I use the brief time before we head upstairs to take in as much of the layout as I can.

The whole time, my ears strain for the sounds of people in the house.

We’re definitely not alone. I can hear two people having a quiet conversation, too far away to make out what they’re saying, in a room across the hall.

From upstairs, I can hear at least one set of footsteps.

The place is a mansion, so there’s room for twenty men or more if they want. I haven’t seen or heard any other women here, so I wonder if the whole family is living the bachelor life. Until now, I guess.

He clears his throat behind me, and I make my way slowly up the stairs, hoping someone will appear so I get another chance at persuading someone to help me escape. For some reason, it seems like Matvei is keeping my presence here a secret. Timofey didn’t know. I can use that to my advantage.

“Whatever you’re plotting,” Matvei interrupts my thoughts as I inch down the hall toward my bedroom, “just forget about it. That was your one and only chance to escape, and it won’t happen again.”

Is the guy a mind reader now? Or maybe I’m just that obvious. Maybe my brothers were right and I’m not cut out for this life, the real version of it, after all. Maybe I am just a princess.

I walk right into the room and head straight for my bed. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I curl into a tiny ball and wish I could just rewind the clock to the time before I lied to Anton and got myself into this mess.

“Choose,” he says, tossing a cellphone down onto the bed next to me.

I pick it up. He’s not close enough to see the screen, even though he’s watching me like a hawk, so I quickly shut the food delivery app and scroll to messages. Blank. Some burner phone because he’s not an idiot.

Worth a try. I fill the cart up with more Chinese food than I could ever possibly eat just to cost him some money, then hand the phone back. He doesn’t even blink at the price.

When he goes to leave, something whips me to my feet. “Don’t lock me in.”

He pauses, hand on the doorknob, and looks over his shoulder. “And should I leave the front door unlocked as well?”

“Please? I just… just please don’t lock me in. It feels like prison.”

To my surprise, he nods. “Fine. One moment.”

He leans out of the hallway and shouts for Timofey. There’s a conversation I can’t hear, and don’t dare to get any closer to try and eavesdrop, then the sound of running feet departing and returning. Matvei steps back into the room and shuts the door behind him.

Is he just going to babysit me? Surely he can’t do that and keep the family operations running. He lifts a set of shining, silver handcuffs from behind his back.

I back away because that is so much worse. I’d rather have the door locked than be chained to the bed, unable to even pee on my own.

The backs of my knees hit the bed, and I sit down abruptly. In that time, Matvei is on me. He snaps the cuffs around my left wrist and, as I yank back against the restraint, he fastens the other side to his own wrist, locking us together.

“Are you crazy?” I ask him, shaking the cuffs. The chain jingles mockingly between us. It’s short, making us way too close for comfort, and I’m hit again by that intoxicating smoky smell that clings to him.

“I’ve been called worse,” he admits, sitting down beside me. “I did as you asked, and now you’re upset?”

“You know this is not what I meant,” I argue.

The bickering continues until there’s a knock on the door. Timofey sticks his head in, raising a brown paper bag. His eyes flick from Matvei to me and back again, settling on the cuffs.

“Not even going to ask,” he says, setting the food down inside the door. “Anything else?”

“We’re good,” Matvei replies, not taking his eyes off me.

When Timofey leaves, we shuffle over to the door together to get the food. Eating is an awkward experience. I sit cross-legged on the floor, and Matvei settles beside me, silent and brooding while I gorge myself on food.

“Anything else to make your stay more pleasant?” Matvei asks when I finally finish and push the food away.

“Yeah,” I grumble, heading for the bathroom to wash my hands. “A little privacy.”

He unlocks us, and I watch him tuck the key into his pocket. Maybe I can grab it when he’s not paying attention, but how far could I really get? I use the restroom and take an extra long time washing my hands.

There’s a knock on the door because apparently I’m not allowed even five minutes to myself now.

When I open it, he hands me a folded set of clothes. “Pajamas.”

I shut the door and run my hand over the soft silk shorts and tank set. It’s even my size. I’m still wearing the dress I put on yesterday, and I’m not one to refuse a gift, so I change into the pajamas and slip back into the bedroom. Matvei’s gaze scorches a trail across my body.

While I was in there, he changed into his own version of pajamas—grey sweatpants and no shirt at all. I finally get a good look at the body promised by the fit of his clothes, and it’s everything I’d imagined and more. Abs and abs and abs. I want to run my tongue up the hard ridge of them.

What the fuck. Where did that thought come from? This man kidnapped me, but there’s no denying the growing pool of heat between my legs as I soak in the sight of him. His arms ripple with muscle that I want to feel wrapped around me.

This time, when he clips the handcuffs back onto my wrist, there’s a tension in the air that the stupid, animal part of my body can’t deny. It wants him. Captor or not, the pull of him is stronger than any magnet.

We settle side by side on the bed, and I’m determined to ignore him. There’s a small space between us, but it’s not enough to stop my eyes from raking over him every chance I get. He picks up a book from the side table that I hadn’t noticed before and starts to read, completely unbothered.

“I got one for you as well,” he says, not looking up from the pages. “Unless you’d prefer a movie?”

I don’t answer him, not trusting myself to speak over the war of emotions inside me. Rage. Lust. Both burn hot until even the flimsy pajamas are too much. Matvei flips a page in his novel, and I bite my lip to keep from squirming. His hands should be on me instead.

No, they absolutely shouldn’t. He’s my kidnapper, and on top of that, he’s a complete bastard. I grab the book from my bedside table and stare down at the pages, not absorbing a single word.