Page 21

The next morning, I woke up with the sun, excited about the chance to go into town without Dima. I wouldn’t cause a single bit of trouble for whichever one of his guys he assigned to go with me, but I already had a plan to slip out of his sight for a couple minutes. Just a few, and then reappear as he was about to start tearing up the village to make him think he was crazy for suspecting anything was wrong. A couple times of doing that and, he’d let his guard down.

The sun was just peeking over the tops of the trees when I went out back to water the baby flowers I just planted, turning after unwinding the newly installed hose to survey all the changes that had been made in the few short weeks we’d been there.

How did it seem like hardly any time had passed when it should have been dragging? I was in captivity, after all, but had been keeping busy with things I actually enjoyed. Gardening was something I never had much time for, and the peaceful activity was something I was going to miss when I was on the run. There were a lot of things I was going to miss, actually. Any place I was able to get on my own wasn’t going to be nearly as nice as this mansion in the middle of paradise.

I’d be lucky to secure a place with running water, but at least I’d be free.

I had just finished up and was stretched out in one of the lounge chairs when Dima appeared from the house with a cup of steaming hot coffee in one hand and a tall glass of orange juice in the other. Like he always did when he was home in the mornings, he held them both out for me to make my choice.

Since I was already hot from hauling the hose around, I chose the juice, pushing aside what a sweet gesture it was. With a smile, he turned around and went back to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a plate of fresh mango, which had become my favorite. Another thing I was going to miss. The fruit, not the man who delivered it and who looked so handsome, fresh from a shower that I had to look away before I weakened.

It was one thing to get along with him. Even without having any real acting skills, that was simple enough since Dima was just about the most easy-going ruthless killer I’d ever known. If I hadn’t been aware of some of the things he’d done in the Bratva, I might have been able to trick myself into believing I somehow ended up with my normal husband after all.

But I didn’t. Nothing was normal about our relationship and he wasn’t a high school coach or a dentist. He was a Bratva king and nothing would ever change that. In fact, after only a few weeks in this new area, he was already buying up land and making contacts. It was just in his blood to take everything he saw.

Like he took me.

I gulped my juice to calm myself and quell the heat that the damp curls falling across his blue eyes raised in me. There was no way a few sweet gestures and a handsome face were going to sway me from my plans to escape.

“How about I whip us up some French toast?” he asked.

Impatience nipped at me, making me have to take a deep breath to keep from jumping off the chaise lounge and screaming that I wanted to get into town already. Anything to have to keep from yearning to reach forward and run my fingers through those wayward curls.

“How about you take a break from kitchen duty, and we have breakfast in town instead? You can leave for your meeting afterward.”

To me, it sounded like a plot that anyone could see straight through, but he shrugged and cheerfully agreed, not suspecting a thing.

“I’ll tell Andre we’re leaving earlier than planned,” he said, holding out his hand to help me up. “He can tag along and do the shopping with you when it’s time for me to leave.”

I took his hand, ignoring the warmth that spread up my arm at his merest touch. I guessed I should have been grateful he was so hellbent on running this area, because the only thing saving me from myself was that he came in so late every night, and I could pretend to be asleep.

“Sounds great,” I said, meaning it.

I could handle Andre. He was just as tough as the rest of Dima’s security crew, but his Spanish was even worse than mine, which might give me an edge once we were alone. He wouldn’t have a clue if I was telling someone at the grocery store that my husband was holding me hostage or enquiring how fresh the eggs were that day.

As we crossed under the arches and into the house, we both stopped dead at the sound of someone pounding on the front door.

No one pounded on our door. Senora Cruz let herself in through the kitchen entrance, and the building and gardening crews went around back, too. We never once had a visitor before and Dima jumped in front of me as one of his guards hurried forward to see who was out there.

He turned and gave Dima a confused look. “It’s Ivan,” he said.

“Fuck,” Dima said just as I groaned.

His brother’s sudden appearance could mean a lot of things, but at the moment I was only envisioning my well-planned and much anticipated trip into town getting nixed.

Dima strode forward and threw open the door to a grinning Ivan. All of the brothers looked so much alike, even with their different hair and eye colors. Ivan had Dima’s golden hair, but his eyes were brown instead of blue, and where Dima rippled with more lean muscle, Ivan was a bit shorter than him and absolutely stacked like a bodybuilder. His grin didn’t fade at all when Dima scowled at him, slapping his older brother on the back as he invited himself in.

“How the hell did you find me, and who else knows?” Dima asked, at least as annoyed as I was, but for a completely different reason.

“Max stopped buying your bullshit about being in Europe a week ago,” Ivan said. “And since you’ve been dodging everyone’s calls, I was tasked with finding you. I remembered this place and decided to give it a shot, but don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about it.”

The ‘yet’ was implied and hung heavy in the air between the brothers. I only knew Ivan a little bit, and I could see he wanted something. A couple of years younger than Dima, he might as well have been my age with his reckless attitude always getting under Max’s skin and making me scramble to get safehouses ready to hide him until whatever mess he made was smoothed over. He loved a fight, and trouble of any kind sought him out like flies to honey.

Did I need to be worried about him knowing why I was here? It could seal my fate if the rest of the Fokins accepted the marriage, but it could also work to my advantage if Ivan was bored and wanted to stir things up. Or if he was irritated with his other brothers and wanted to help Dima out and keep the secret.

Holding my breath, I soon learned it was the latter, and Ivan was not interested in spilling the beans. He rightly suspected Dima was onto something big and wanted in on it.

“It must be pretty amazing for you to be hiding out down here in the middle of nowhere,” he said, seeming to notice me standing behind Dima for the first time since he arrived.

“Is that Olivia?” he asked, peering around Dima’s shoulder. “I thought you worked for Max?”

Before Dima could say anything, I blurted it all out. Every last detail. It was a risk, but I couldn’t have Ivan thinking this marriage was real if I wanted his presence to work to my advantage. I also couldn’t have him reporting back that Dima had finally found a bride, because if the Fokins decided to accept me as family, I’d never see freedom.

“Wow, a fake marriage, who would have thought of that?” Ivan said with an eye roll.

I pretended to laugh, but Dima didn’t join in. He looked pissed. I was not in a great mood either, since my plan had been pushed back.

“I guess I’ll find something to do in the garden while you guys talk,” I said, heading outside. There was nothing I could do but bide my time and hope I’d get another chance soon.

“To hell with that,” Dima grumbled. “Ivan’s not going to ruin our plans. He can tag along or not.”

Oh, hell, what did he mean by ‘our plans’? He was only supposed to grab a quick breakfast with me and then leave me in the hands of his guard, so I could start my manipulation tactics. Now, we’d probably spend the whole day together with Ivan, and I’d have zero chance of slipping away for even thirty seconds.

I could still practice my Spanish, though, and work on getting at least one local resident on my side when the time was right, so I hurried upstairs to change. I’d been bidding my time this long, but I could go another day.

In town, we went to a cute coffee shop I’d been wanting to check out, a little way off the main street and tucked next to a fruit stall, with a park on the other side. I loved a good coffee, but I especially wanted to scope it out and see if a back exit might lead into the trees beyond the park.

Inside, they offered breakfast options as well as coffee and tea, so we decided to stay there and eat. Right after we ordered, but before we could settle in, a local man that I recognized as one of the guys Dima was doing business with, came in and insisted that Dima go check something out.

Dima took him aside for a huddled conversation while Ivan gestured toward a table, rolling his eyes at me.

“He can’t help himself, can he?” he asked.

“You know him better than I do,” I said.

“When he wants something,” Ivan started, but trailed off with a grimace.

“Hmph,” I answered with a scowl.

Clearly, Dima wanted to take care of whatever needed his attention, and Ivan finally waved him away. “Go on, I’ll keep an eye on your little prisoner.”

I couldn’t help but laugh while silently celebrating, because that was exactly how I wanted Dima’s brother to see me, as the prisoner I was. Not that he’d ever help me escape, but at least he wasn’t under any illusion that what Dima and I had was real. However, the look of worry and disappointment on Dima’s face sure looked real, and I turned to the coffee the barista put on the table in front of me to keep from starting to soften towards him.

The last thing I needed was for any pesky feelings to get in the way of my freedom.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised, then glared at Ivan and told him to keep me in his sights at all times.

I would have died of embarrassment if he wasn’t feeding into my plan with his overprotectiveness coming off as controlling.

“So, is all this because your father’s fallen off the map?” Ivan asked once Dima was gone and we both had our chilaquiles in front of us.

I paused with my fork halfway to my lips. “That’s actually news to me,” I said. The last I heard, Papa was dodging Dima’s calls, but had no idea he had gone missing completely. “It’s not like he can use me as a bargaining chip anymore, even if he did rack up a bunch of new debts.”

I let all my true bitterness come out in my voice, and usually, I would have balked at Ivan’s look of pity, but I needed him to understand that I was only there because I’d been sold to Dima. Before he could say anything else, his phone rang, and he apologized, sliding his chair back a few feet to take it.

While I was still in view, he was giving the call his full attention, and for a few glorious moments, I felt close to free. Since we left the guard at home, no prying eyes were boring a hole into me and I dug into my meal with gusto. A woman was seated at the table next to me, and my ears perked up as she struggled to place her order with a very obvious American accent.

Jumping in to help show off my fledgling Spanish, she smiled at me gratefully.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m Zoey, and believe it or not, I’ve been taking Spanish lessons at home for three months.”

“It’s really hard in the real world, though,” I said, introducing myself.

She was about my age, with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and a splash of freckles across her nose. She had a closed laptop next to her but ignored it and started up a conversation with me. It was clear she was glad to be able to speak without stumbling, and I had no idea how hungry I was to talk with another woman, since I had been surrounded by men for the last few weeks.

It turned out Zoey was a free-spirited writer who took a leave of absence from her teaching job to try to finish her first novel. She randomly chose our little town and hoped the peace and quiet would help her focus.

“I’ve been dying to talk to someone for more than a couple words at a time,” she admitted, glancing at Ivan as he continued his phone conversation. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Brother-in-law,” I said begrudgingly.

Of course, she’d be interested in him; he was as gorgeous as any of the Fokin men. Maybe not as beautiful as Dima, not that I was comparing them. Her curiosity grew when she learned he wasn’t mine, and seemed thrilled to draw him into the conversation when he got off the phone. Ever the flirt like his siblings, Ivan basked in the attention like a cat in the sun.

We hung out the whole morning and when Ivan went up to the counter to get us refills, or slipped off to the restroom, I tried to play the part of someone who was anxious about something. It wasn’t hard, since Dima could show up at any time and who knew when I might see Zoey again. Should I take a chance and risk telling her I needed help?

It was too soon, too much was at stake, so I just rolled with the casual conversation. When Dima met up with us close to lunch time, he helped my cause by looking at Zoey like she wore a vest of explosives and was threatening to blow the place up.

“Let’s go,” he said, barely smiling when I introduced him.

“I guess I have to leave,” I said quietly.

“Do you want to meet up here again tomorrow?” Zoey asked.

Oh, I definitely did, and not just because she seemed sweet and I was desperate for a friend. This woman might have been just the chance I was looking for.

“Um, I’m not sure I can,” I said, glancing warily at Dima.

“I’d be happy to,” Ivan said, not at all aware of the delicate scene I was performing.

Dima only rumbled without answering either way, and then grunted that we needed to get the shopping done and be on our way home.

Oh, he couldn’t have done a better job if I’d given him a script in advance. I noticed Zoey’s concerned face as he took my arm and led me firmly toward the door. It was all I could do to hide my smile as we left.