I pick out long black pants and a white, one-shouldered blouse. I keep my hair loose and my makeup minimal.
I don’t really care what he thinks of me—that’s what I tell myself, at least, and for the most part, I believe it—but I figure I have a better chance of getting information out of Aleks if I look like I’m trying.
And information is exactly what I need.
Finding Isabella’s scarf in that dusty bedroom has changed everything. I have to play my part just right. He can’t know that I know.
The problem is that Aleks is the most perceptive man I’ve ever met. More to the point, he does this kind of stuff all the time. The power games, the lies and deceptions.
Me? I’m a cartoonist, for God’s sake. Cloak-and-dagger spy movie shit isn’t exactly my specialty.
The longer I sit in my room, though, the slower the clock moves. I’m going to go crazy if I watch the second hand keep dragging its way through mud.
So I head to the dining room five minutes early.
The table is fully set, wine already decanted, but Aleks isn’t there when I walk in. I take a seat and try to settle my growing nerves. You can do this. You have to do this. You will do this.
I’m reaching for the glass of water in front of me when I notice his shadow fall across the table. True to form, I promptly knock the glass over and drench the thick tablecloth.
“God-fucking-shit-dammit!” I stammer, lunging for a napkin and upending my chair in the process. It’s becoming a problem.
“Maybe I should wear a collar with bells,” he suggests as I scramble in every direction at once. “Like a cat.”
I bite down on my lip. “Sorry.”
He waves away my apology. “I already warned the staff they’d have a little extra clean-up after tonight’s dinner. You do have a track record.”
“Shut up. Did you really tell them that?”
He smiles. “You can always ask one of them and find out.”
I decide that he’s kidding and take my seat. He sits opposite me and fills up his wine glass from the decanter, then swirls it and brings it to his nose. His eyes remain fixed on me as he takes a sip.
“Beautiful. Full-bodied. Delicate.” He smirks. “I’m talking about the wine, of course.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you are.”
“Would you like to try it?” He holds the decanter out towards me.
I shake my head. “Not much of a booze aficionado.”
“No? What is your poison of choice?”
“On the rare occasions that I do drink, probably beer.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess: your father drank beer?”
“Uh, yeah.” I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
He just nods as though, yet again, I’ve proved how predictable I am. “Mhmm.”
“What?” I snap.
“You don’t actually like the taste of beer,” he sighs. “You just drink it because it reminds you of him.”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil. Is this you proving how easily you can read me?”
“No. I proved that a long time ago.”
Acting impulsively, I snatch Aleks’s glass of wine from in front of him and steal a sip. The taste is bitter at first, but the longer it sits on my tongue, the smoother and sweeter it gets.
“Wow,” I murmur when I set it back down.
“Good, isn’t it?”
“Yeah!” I say over-enthusiastically. “Amazing. So subtle. Did you pick up on the notes of grape?”
Aleks rolls his eyes at my bratty act of sarcasm and lets loose a long-suffering sigh. “You don’t drink because you’re afraid of what might happen if you let go. But you can’t live in fear, Olivia,” he says. “Venturing beyond the safe and comfortable is how you learn what you’re truly made of. Risks make life worth living.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Again, very philosophical. But I’m not quite sure I get the point you’re trying to make.”
“Imagine my surprise.”
He’s watching me with careful eyes. I wish I could read him as easily as he seems to be able to read me.
But so far, I feel… good? At least, I think I do. For the most part, I feel like I’m doing a solid job keeping my nerves at bay. The clumsiness from earlier… well, that’s par for the course in OliviaLand, so it works.
Our conversation lulls for a moment while the waiters bring out the food. The first course is a tomato chili soup infused with a creamy garlic oil. Beside it, they place a fennel and crab salad garnished with lemon juice and thin slices of sweet orange. The smell alone is borderline erotic.
The servers bow and disappear back into the kitchen. Aleks folds his hands and looks at me. “Did you get the supplies I sent up?”
“I did,” I say, spooning some soup into my mouth. Holy shit, this is amazing. I school my face into a neutral expression. Give nothing away. Keep your guard up. “Thank you. I didn’t expect a gift.”
He smiles pleasantly. “Had to save my walls.”
“I would apologize,” I reply, “but you deserve it, and honestly, it’s an improvement. This place is decorated like a morgue. You do know that there are colors in the universe besides black and gray, right?”
He chuckles but makes no move to reply as he tastes the soup for himself. I’m over here struggling to control the orgasm in my mouth, but Aleks takes it all in completely stone-faced, like having Michelin-starred food at a spur-of-the-moment dinner is no big deal.
The crab is as delicious as the soup. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy every bite. Prisoners don’t normally eat this good.
But that thought brings nothing but guilt. I’m here, getting literally wined-and-dined. As for my family…
Where are they? What are they doing? Are they okay, safe, afraid?
I don’t have any of the answers.
“You okay?”
I blink. “Sorry?”
“You were just talking to yourself,” Aleks explains. “Muttering.”
I know he’s not lying. After Mia left for college, I’d talk to myself, pretending I was talking to her instead. Somehow, the habit stuck.
“Nope, I was not. You must have misheard.”
“You were. Sounded like a serious discussion.”
“Are you feeling alright?” I ask. “I think you’re starting to imagine things.”
He hums, a low, rumbly sound that reverberates through me. His eyes never leave my face. “As you wish. I’ll play along.”
He smiles again. Pleasant, beautiful, no chinks in his armor. This whole dinner feels almost… normal. Like a date.
Not that I have the most experience in that department. I meet his eyes and my stomach flutters. Damn you, butterflies.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask suddenly.
“Doing what?”
“This,” I say, gesturing to my now-empty bowl. “The fancy dinner, the amazing food, the… the… ‘full-bodied’ wine. Why go through all the trouble for a prisoner?”
“Because you’re not my prisoner anymore, remember?” he tells me. “You’re my wife.”
“Does that mean I can leave whenever I want?”
“No.”
“Case in point.”
He shakes his head. “You are not allowed to leave because your safety is my top priority. With the FBI sniffing around, I can’t exactly let my wife run around on her own, can I?”
I frown at the reasonable way he packages that little narrative. “The FBI are a threat to you, not me.”
“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours,” he smiles. “What threatens me, threatens you. We’re one now, kiska. You’d do well to remember that.”
Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore. The waiters round the corner with the next course, but Aleks senses something and waves them away.
“You did promise me you would be cooperative,” he chides when we’re alone again.
“That depends on what I need to cooperate on,” I point out. “If you expect me to do anything illegal or—”
“Calm down,” he says. “Have you always had such an overactive imagination?”
“Actually, yes.”
He smiles. “I suppose you’d have to, living the life you do.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“How many times do I have to tell you: I like my life. Liked it, at least.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure worms like the rocks they live under, too.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He chuckles. “I’m not all bad. Would an asshole let you call your family?”
I jerk upright. “What?”
He nods, pleased with my reaction. “I figure it’s been long enough. We’ve been married for a week now. I’m sure you’ll want to tell them just how happy you are. Brimming over with marital bliss.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he says. “I just want to show you that I’m willing to give you certain concessions. So long as you do the same for me when the time comes.”
I have no idea what the hell that means, but I’m not about to pass up a chance to speak to my family. “When can I call them?”
“The phone line in your room has been cleared. You can use it tonight whenever you’re ready.”
“And this isn’t a trick?”
“Now, why would I do that?”
I don’t bother dignifying that with a response. “Guess I have to wait until the end of this dinner to make the call, huh?”
He looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. “It would be rude not to.”
“Great. Then bring the boys back in and let’s get this thing over with.”
Aleks snaps his fingers and, like magic, the army of servers reappears with our entrées.
When they slide the plate in front of me, I gawk down at a beautifully seared steak, buttery mashed potatoes, artfully charred broccolini, and a red wine jus that looks dangerously rich.
“You know, when most people say, ‘I could eat a whole cow,’ they don’t mean it literally,” I advise him. “This is an absurdly huge plate of food.”
He shrugs without looking up. “You’ll manage.”
We start eating, but I barely taste anything anymore. All I can think of is getting up to my room so that I can see if he’s made good on his promise and opened up my phone line.
I’m halfway through my steak when I notice Aleks staring at me. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Just thinking how docile you are. A braver soul would have dashed out of the meal altogether.”
I blush. “I didn’t think you were giving me the option.”
“We give ourselves options in this life, Olivia. Wait for someone else to give them to you and you’ll be waiting forever.”
I take a deep breath. The food that was so appetizing a moment ago is now repulsive. I want away from it, away from him, away from everything that keeps trying to make me into something I’m not.
“I… I’m going to go to my room now,” I say, pushing myself away from the table.
“That sounds like a question. Is it?”
I square my shoulders and infuse as much confidence into my voice as possible. “I’m going to go to my room.”
He shrugs. “Not very convincing, but it’s a start.”
I grit my teeth. “I stand by what I said earlier: you are an asshole.”
He chuckles as I turn around and storm away from him. The moment he’s out of sight, I run up the stairs and to my bedroom. I need to get this call in quickly in case he changes his mind.
I dial in Mia’s cell number first and hold my breath. It rings four times before she answers.
“Hello?”
“Mia!”
“Jesus!” she gasps. “Liv?”
I laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. “It’s me. It’s me, Mia. How are you? Is Mom alright? Have you seen Rob?”
“Jesus Christ, why are you asking about us?” she demands. “How are you? Is it true what Rob told us? Are you married?”
“It’s a long story… but everything Rob told you is true.”
“Fucking hell, Liv. I don’t know why we can’t just go to the police.”
“Our brother is the police, remember?”
“Right, but he’s still our brother. We should get more people involved. He can’t just—”
“Mia!” I interrupt. “Calm down. I know there’s a lot to discuss, but we both need to take a breath.”
I hear movement on the other line. I know she’s walking around. I check the time and try to remember what day it is.
Tuesday. Shouldn’t she be at work right now? She always has shifts on Tuesdays.
“Where are you?”
“At home with Mom. Actually, I’m always here now,” she says. “I gave up my apartment and moved in here. She… she needs me.”
“Seriously?”
“The attack really rattled her, Liv,” Mia explains. “She wasn’t comfortable living alone after everything that happened. Honestly, I can’t say I blame her.”
I don’t know why I feel so guilty. It’s not as though I was responsible in any way. But somehow, the fact that I’m now Aleks’s wife makes everything seem a little more complicated.
“Of course. I understand.”
“Rob’s saying that he needs to cooperate with the motherfucker who took you,” Mia says. “He doesn’t talk to me a whole lot about his plans… but I do think he is planning something.”
“Sounds like Rob.”
“He’s more determined than ever,” she says. “It reminds me of how he was after Isabella disappeared. I’m worried.”
“Try not to be,” I say. “I don’t want any of you to worry. I’m actually okay. Really.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know he abducted me and all that. But it’s not like I’m a prisoner here.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course you are!”
“What I mean is, I’m not treated like one,” I rush to explain. “Seriously, Mia, I have a massive room with a balcony and a private bathroom. And a walk-in closet. And I get all these gourmet meals and stuff.”
“Are you trying to tell me you like being his prisoner?” Mia asks incredulously.
“No! No, of course not. That would be crazy. It’s just—”
“Oh, God.”
“What?” I ask.
“I didn’t think I needed to worry about this, given how things went down.”
I frown. “What exactly are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that you have a thing for bad boys—”
“Are you serious?” I snap defensively.
The fact that she’s right on the nose about this makes me all the more defensive. Whatever happens, I can never admit to my feelings for Aleks.
What kind of woman develops feelings for the man that threatened her family, beat her brother, and forced her into marriage?
Not me, that’s for damn sure. This is just lust. That’s all this is.
And lust is shallow. Temporary. It’ll pass.
I hope.
“I know you, boo,” she sighs.
“Which one of the guys I’ve ever dated qualifies as a ‘bad boy’?”
“You chose safe because you didn’t want to get hurt,” she points out. “So you picked men who didn’t have a chance of hurting you. But that doesn’t mean it’s what you craved. This guy is different. He’s your wet dream come to life.”
I shudder. “Stop that.”
“I’ve seen him, Liv, remember?” she reminds me. “I saw the man clearly. I may have been bound and gagged, but I wasn’t blindfolded. He’s hot.”
“Mia—”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a freaking Bratva don, honey. He’s dangerous. So believe me, I get that that’s part of the appeal—”
“Stop,” I say forcefully. “Just stop. I don’t… I’m not attracted to him, and I’m not okay with this situation, either. All I was trying to do is reassure you that I’m okay. I’m not being tied up or tortured or anything crazy like that. That’s all.”
She sits with that for a moment, but I know she’s not totally satisfied. “Has he… Have you… He hasn’t forced himself on you, has he?” she asks tentatively.
“Jesus, no,” I say firmly. “He hasn’t forced himself on me.”
“Okay, good. Glad he’s keeping his hands to himself at the least.”
I keep my mouth shut. It’s not totally a lie, and besides, she doesn’t need to know about what happened. Nobody does. If I had it my way, I’d wipe it from my own memory, too.
I hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Mia’s voice gets fuzzy in the background. She’s talking to someone else.
“It’s Liv… I know… She called me… Wait, Rob! I haven’t finished talking to her yet! Rob! Don’t—”
“Olivia?” Rob says, his deep voice filled with concern.
“What’s up, big head?” I say as cheerfully as I can, using the nickname I’ve had for him since I was a little girl.
He’s supposed to respond with Nothing much, chicken feet. But instead, all he does is growl, “Are you okay?”
I sigh. So much for faking happiness.
“Yeah, I am. I told Mia everything already. I can’t leave the house or anything, but I have freedom of the compound now. I’m treated decently.”
“Has he tried to force himself on you?”
“God, why does everyone keep asking me that?” I say. “No, he hasn’t. He’s been… fine. Distant. Aloof.”
“But has he tried to threaten you? Has he hurt you in any way?”
“He hasn’t hurt me at all,” I assure him. “It feels a little bit like living in a hotel, to be honest. There’s a maid that comes in to clean my room. There’s a chef in-house that’ll cook me whatever I want…”
“Fuck me,” Rob breathes.
“What?”
“You understand what he’s doing, don’t you?”
I frown. “Holding me hostage?”
“No. He’s luring you into his world. Trying to bring you into the fold. Soon enough, you’ll be his little puppet, parroting anything he wants you to say.”
“Rob,” I say, “listen to me. I’m not so simple-minded that I can be won over by a nice meal and clean sheets. I don’t intend to remain his wife for long. He’s told me that if you keep your word and drop the investigation, then he’ll release me.”
“Release you?”
“Give me a divorce and let me go,” I explain.
“He said that?”
“He did. And I think he means it, too.”
“Why the hell would you think that?” he snaps.
“He’s not going to want to be saddled with me for life,” I point out. “I’m just baggage. Be realistic: I’m not the right kind of woman for a man like Aleks Makarova. He’ll want to be rid of me as soon as he gets what he wants. Which will be in a year, if you do what he asks.”
“Fuck,” Rob mutters. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay, so… he wins.”
“What?”
“He wins,” Rob repeats with emphasis. “We’re all worried about you, Liv. Mom and Mia have been beside themselves since he took you. It’s not worth what this is doing to our family.”
“Rob—”
“I’ll drop the investigation. I will.”
Yesterday, that’s all I wanted to hear. But now? After what I found?
“No,” I say firmly. “You can’t.”
I hear nothing but his breathing for a long time. Then: “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I’m so sorry, Rob,” I say slowly. I hope this devastating morsel of information doesn’t send him into a vicious downward spiral. But he deserves to know that he was right all along. “I… I found something.”
“What is it?”
“A scarf,” I say in a hushed voice. “A red scarf with strawberries all over it.”
It’s only silence that follows, but there’s so much dread in it that I shiver. I can just imagine Rob standing in the kitchen with Mia’s cell phone pressed to his ear.
Deathly still.
Deathly pale.
Cold as the grave.
“Are… are you sure it’s the same one?”
“Positive. I remember the day you bought it for her.”
“I do, too,” he murmurs. “I can still picture the look on her face when I gave it to her. She was so damn happy over that stupid little gift.”
“I’m so sorry, Rob,” I whisper. My voice is choked and tight.
“So he took her,” he says evenly. Just stating facts—even though I know he’s dying inside. “Does he know you found it?”
“No one does. Just you.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. I’m guessing he allowed you to make this phone call?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good, too. He probably thinks you’ve been cooperating with him. Let’s keep that going. He has to trust you.”
“I don’t think he’s the kind of man who trusts anyone.”
“You’re not just anyone. If any person on earth can inspire trust, it’s you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mumble.
“I’m serious. You’re so much more capable than you give yourself credit for, Liv. Just trust your instincts and keep your head down. I’m going to get you out of there. A year be damned.”
“Just as long as you’re careful, too, Rob,” I tell him. “We lost Dad. We can’t afford to lose you too.”
“Backatcha, kid.”
I smile, though it’s tinged with sadness. “Rob, I really am sorry. This is—”
“She’s not dead, Liv,” he cuts in. “I know everyone thinks she is, but I can feel it in my bones. She’s not dead.”
I nod. “Okay, Rob, sure,” I say, though I’m really just telling him what he wants to hear right now. “I’m gonna help you find out what happened to her. And then we’ll bring her home.”
“Damn right. Don’t take unnecessary risks, Liv.”
“I never do.”
But as we say our goodbyes and hang up the phone, five little words play in my mind over and over again. Aleks’s words.
Risks make life worth living.
