Leonid Ivanov has a dog!
I don’t know why this changes everything, but it does. The way his expression softened when he looked at Marvel, the way the dog was with him, totally trusting and affectionate, means that the gun-toting, Armani-wearing, thin-lipped façade is exactly that: a façade.
The problem is that Leonid Ivanov has been wearing the Russian mobster suit for so long that he doesn’t know who else to be. Apart from when he is with Marvel. But he doesn’t even realize what the dog does to him; if he did, he would never have let me meet him in the garden. Because now that I’ve had a glimpse of the man who loves his dog, there’s no going back.
It opens all kinds of doors, and hopefully one of them will lead to my escape.
I don’t want to use Marvel against Leonid, but having the dog on my side will make me feel safer, not that I would risk his life for mine. He’s the chink in Leonid Ivanov’s armor, and he doesn’t even realize it.
That night, in bed, I run through what happened in the maze. It’s becoming a regular occurrence, and one that gets my pulse racing when I think of what might happen next. I know what should happen next of course, but if this was just a taster of what Leonid can do to me, I’m not sure my mind—or my throbbing pussy—will survive it.
I’m disappointed when, the next morning, Tamara brings me a pair of white Capri pants, a navy-blue cut-off T-shirt, and some functional underwear. She stands by the door and watches me pick up the plain white panties, her expression unreadable.
“Something wrong, printzessa? The clothes not to your liking?”
I turn around and face her squarely. She chose the outfit. I don’t think she knows what happened between me and Leonid, but she has picked up on the different dynamics and she doesn’t like it.
“I prefer lace.” I shrug. “But I’m grateful to Leonid for providing me with clothes. I truly am. Without them, I’d be wandering around his house naked, and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate the distraction, given how busy he is.”
Her expression hardens. She steps away from the door and walks closer, holding my gaze. Without warning, the back of her hand slaps my cheek, the rings on her fingers biting into my flesh. I feel warm blood trickling down my cheek, and I cover the side of my face with my hand.
“Just because I wear my hair in bangs, don’t be fooled into believing that I am nothing like my sister. We serve the Pakhan, and he will never choose you over us.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I hold them back. “If you’re so confident, why do you need to tell me this, huh? What are you afraid of, Tamara?”
She shakes her head, her mouth contorting into an ugly expression that finally resembles her sister. Ivana must live with this permanent fear and mistrust always lurking beneath the confident exterior, while Tamara has learned to hide it well. “I am afraid of nothing.”
“I don’t believe you. Everyone is afraid of something. Are you scared that the Pakhan might fall in love someday, and that his woman will turn him against you?”
“That will never happen. He is married to his family.”
I smile. “But he isn’t married to you.”
“I am family.” Her face has rearranged itself into the beautiful woman I first met, only, like her boss, she too has unwittingly shown me what lies underneath. “Something you will never be.”
She leaves the room, and the key turning in the lock sounds more final than it has ever sounded before. She and Ivana wouldn’t risk Leonid’s fury by disposing of me themselves, but I have no doubts they could make my death look like an accident if I push them too far.
In the bathroom, I splash my face with cold water and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Raised pink welts form a jagged pattern on my left cheek, the skin sliced apart where her rings caught the tender flesh. I soak the corner of the towel and dab the cuts carefully, pressing the cold cloth to my cheek to take down the swelling.
My face stings. Tears spill over my bottom lashes now that I’m alone, and I feel the sharp stab of homesickness in my chest.
I miss Mel and Lucian and my father more than I ever did when I was working in Montenegro because I always knew that they were here in Chicago, a flight away, probably missing me too. What hurts is how badly I miss Montenegro. I miss my friends, my job, and my apartment. I miss being able to make a difference where it’s needed most, but more than anything else, I miss my freedom.
I never appreciated the luxury of making coffee in the morning and standing by the window to watch the world go by. Throwing open the closet and choosing my own clothes. Grilling a cheese sandwich and eating it standing up with a family-sized packet of potato chips because I can’t be bothered to cook a full-on meal.
Back in the bedroom, I dress in the clothes Tamara left for me and wait for her to come back when it’s time for my walk.
Sergei brings my lunch, a grilled chicken and red pepper baguette with a crisp, green side salad. He sets it down on the desk, eyes up the marks on my cheek, but doesn’t ask me how it happened.
“Where is Tamara?” I ask when he goes back to the door.
“She’s busy.”
“I thought… I haven’t been outside yet today.”
His gaze travels up and down my body, lingering a beat too long on my breasts. “Correct. We are all busy, Ms. Sedric. Some of us do not have the time to go wandering around the maze and walking the pakhan’s dog.”
I chew my bottom lip and listen to his footsteps receding along the corridor. I was right. Leonid got what he wanted, and now he has no need to charm me with his garden maze based on Hampton Court Palace or his beautiful dog. Why should he care if I leave this room? So long as I’m alive and in his possession, I’m still his leverage against Xander to win this stupid fucking war.
So, what are my options?
I could starve myself, but I’ve seen firsthand how survival instinct can keep a body alive in the most horrific circumstances. I could try to escape, but this place is patrolled by armed guards, and I’d rather keep both my kneecaps intact.
Besides, as I sit down and take a bite of my baguette, I realize that these thoughts are half-hearted and childish, like a kid trying to get out of completing a homework assignment. Because my captivity could be a whole lot worse than it is. I could be locked in the dungeon with Ivana for company.
I don’t even attempt to make conversation when Sergei returns for the tray. I stand by the window with my back to the door, my tiny little bit of control over the situation by not giving into the questions burning my tongue.
Where is Leonid?
Why have I not been allowed outside today?
Does he even know that I’ve not had my twenty minutes of vitamin D and fresh air? Or is he withholding the one thing that I look forward to because he believes that it will make me want him more?
Well, I’ve got news for him. I can live without Leonid Ivanov and his wandering tongue.
Heat floods my cheeks. Tongue? Why was that the first thing that popped into my head when I thought of my captor?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I lay down on the bed and close my eyes so that I can’t see the blue sky and golden sunlight streaming through the windows.
I’m still there, arms by my side, eyes fixed on a tiny dark patch on the ceiling when Sergei comes back without food. “Coming, printzessa,” he says, holding onto the doorknob, “or are you going to pretend to be asleep all day?”
I sit up. “Where are you taking me?”
His expression doesn’t even falter. “Outside. Unless you want to skip your twenty minutes today.”
“No.” I’m already on my feet. I grab my sneakers and slip them on while I walk in case he changes his mind.
Leonid didn’t forget about my exercise. That’s what I tell myself as I follow Sergei along the hallway and down the staircase, the taste of sunshine on my tongue.
I expect him to be waiting for me outside, but there’s no sign of him. There is only Tamara, checking her wristwatch as if she is bored with being kept waiting.
Disappointment congeals inside my foolish gut when I realize that he has no intention of keeping me company today. But then I hear heavy panting from somewhere close by, and turn around to find Marvel galloping towards me, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. A gray-haired woman is chasing him, her face pinched into the kind of expression that means she knows she has already lost this race but is obliged to keep running anyway.
“I am sorry.” She is breathing heavily by the time she reaches us, bent double and hands on her knees while she catches her breath.
I stroke Marvel behind the ears and nuzzle the silky fur on the top of his large head. “You’re okay, aren’t you, boy?”
“Bad boy.” The woman’s voice is harsh as she straightens, the dog-less leash still in her hand. Marvel instinctively nudges closer to me, almost taking out my legs with his weight.
“He isn’t bad, he’s excited,” I snap. The woman’s gaze slides across to Tamara and Sergei as if they’ll back her up. I ignore them all and hold out my hand for the leash. “I’ll walk him.”
“It’s my job.” The woman clings to the leash like I’ve just announced I’m trying to get her fired. “I’ll do it.”
I could tell her that the dog was walking her, but I’ve only just gotten out of the house, and I’m sure Tamara would take great pleasure in cutting my freedom short.
“Twenty minutes.” I address Sergei. “It’s not like I can go anywhere, and Marvel likes me.”
He doesn’t even approach the dog, proving my point; they might be able to handle a firearm and follow orders, but they have no clue when it comes to animals.
“Pakhan didn’t say—” Tamara begins.
But Sergei cuts her off. “Fine. Nineteen minutes now.”
I don’t wait around. I know that I’m still being followed by him and Tamara with their steely eyes and guns tucked inside their waistbands, but it feels like a minor victory. I’m outside, I’m with Marvel, and the dog stays by my side even though he has the entire garden to explore.
Looking at his goofy grin and trusting brown eyes, Marvel feels like a knot tying Leonid to me. Or me to Leonid. I’m still the prisoner after all. It just feels so good to have him around, like I could sit on the grass with him and tell him what’s been going on and know that he’ll be on my side.
I find a stray tennis ball and throw it for Marvel, who gallops off and comes trotting back with it in his mouth. He drops it at my feet and watches the ball, grinning, tail going round and around in circles like a windmill.
I don’t count how many times I throw the ball. Sergei is the timekeeper today. But Marvel never tires of running off to retrieve it and dumping it back at my feet, like this is the most fun he has ever had.
“Your dad never plays ball with you, huh?” I bend to pick up the tennis ball, but Marvel pushes past me, tail still wagging, as he performs the kind of leaps a kangaroo would be proud of, crying and barking at the same time.
I turn around to find Leonid standing behind me, Marvel jumping up at him and demanding his attention. “His dad plays ball with him when he has the time.” He takes in the pants and T-shirt, his eyes almost disappearing beneath his lowered brows.
I realize that he thinks I chose these clothes. Good. Just wait until he sees the practical Sigourney-Weaver-in-Alien panties.
Then he notices the marks on my cheek. “Leave us,” he says to Sergei and Tamara.
I half expect Tamara to tell him that my time is up, but she walks away without a word. Although, if looks could kill, I’d be buried underneath Leonid’s feet with a silver dagger through my heart, and a string of garlic around my neck.
“Good of you to join us.” I crouch in front of Marvel who has come back to me now that he’s had his daddy fix. “I thought you were busy.”
“I am.” He kneels on the other side of the dog and tilts my face towards him. “Let me guess, you fell.”
“I’m clumsy like that. It’s what happens when I don’t get a change of scenery.”
“I will see that it doesn’t happen again.” He sounds so sincere that I almost believe him.
“No, you won’t. I’m just your prisoner, remember?”
Marvel whines then and licks my face the way dogs do, trying to heal me with love.
“Gianna, I want to apologize for—”
“Don’t.”
I cut him off and stand up, walking away from the house even though I know I’ve had way longer than my allotted twenty minutes already. Leonid falls into step beside me, Marvel trotting along in the middle of us.
“Don’t apologize for what happened yesterday.”
I don’t even look at him. I can’t. Because every time I do, I can feel his tongue inside me all over again, and this dazzling power that he seems to have over me crashes through my chest and leaves me weak at the knees.
“You gave me the choice, remember?” I remind him.
“I remember.”
“You didn’t force me to do anything against my will.”
He opens his mouth to speak and then changes his mind.
“I’m a big girl, Leonid. It was fun, but hey, I get it, I’m an asset to you. I’ll go back to my family soon, and you can erase me from your memory. Forget it ever happened.” Pause. “I will.”
Fuck, those two words hurt me more than they could ever hurt him. He keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead at a spot in the distance that only he can see, and I wipe the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, grateful that he isn’t watching.
“You’ll forget all about me?”
“Yep.” My voice shakes, and I pray that he doesn’t notice. “Leonid who?”
“Are you trying to tell me that yesterday meant nothing to you?”
“Correct again. You catch on quick.” Marvel whines by my side and I stroke his head, murmuring to him softly, “It’s okay, boy. Daddy isn’t in any danger.” I glimpse Leonid’s stern profile, and my heart starts thudding.
“That’s debatable, Gianna.”
I don’t speak. I’ve said too much, already. I’ve let my captor off the hook and preserved my dignity, but I’m sad that I’ll probably never get to see Marvel again.
“Are you finished?” His voice is strained.
I inhale deeply. “Yes.” It comes out sounding way meeker than I wanted it to.
“Good.” He slides his hand into mine and veers left before we reach the tennis courts.
I don’t try to pull away. His hand isn’t restrictive; it’s warm, gentle almost, the way a father might hold his daughter when he wants to keep her close. Marvel, sensing the truce, runs off ahead and I shriek out loud when he pounces on a pigeon and almost catches it.
Leonid chuckles. “He hasn’t figured out how to fly, to my knowledge.”
But I’m not paying attention. Up ahead is a huge pond surrounded by weeping willows, long-necked graceful swans gliding across the water’s surface. There are lily pads and bulrushes and golden fish bobbing for food. A flash of sapphire darts away from the pond as we approach. A kingfisher.
Marvel lowers his head at the edge of the pond and quenches his thirst. Then as if suddenly catching the scent of food, he dashes around the pond and stops at a red and white gingham blanket spread out across the grass. There are baskets on the blanket, a wine cooler, crystal champagne flutes.
“Marvel.” Leonid whistles, and the dog raises his head, his ears instantly standing to attention.
“What’s this?”
Leonid smiles at me, and I forget, just for a moment, why I’m here.
“Dinner.”
