Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
It took a few minutes for the world to come into focus. And I still didn’t understand. I was in a bedroom; one I’d never been in before.
At first, I thought it was maybe a hotel room. It was tastefully decorated but lacked any personal touches. There were no photos, no paintings on the walls. And the thick curtains over the window looked luxurious, their color a deep oxblood, not the nameless inoffensive beige that finer hotel rooms preferred, or the stain-hiding patterns in cheaper rooms.
No, this had to be someone’s home. A guest room maybe? Sunlight shone around the top and bottom edges of those thick, heavy curtains. And I wasn’t sure if it was to keep the light out—which, given the way my head pounded I was eternally grateful for—or if it was to make sure I couldn’t tell where I was.
Next to the bed, there was a table with a pitcher of water and a single glass covered in condensation. And there was a water ring on the deep mahogany tabletop. It had been there for quite a while.
How long had I been here?
I knew the water could have been drugged or poisoned. And I shouldn’t drink it, but my mouth was so dry my tongue felt thick, and my lips were on the verge of cracking.
I reached for the water just to have my hand freeze midair, stopped by the pull of the links of the handcuff that attached me to the bed.
I was restrained. Someone had taken me, put me in a lavish bedroom. And chained me to the bed.
No, not someone.
Roman.
But where was I? This wasn’t his room, it wasn’t his bed. It didn’t smell like him, didn’t have the same dark wood and rich, navy blue tones. Whoever had decorated this room preferred jewel-toned reds and creams.
It was beautiful, but not Roman.
The men whose voices woke me up were still right outside the door, their words still booming. I pushed past the pain and struggled through the fog to see if I could hear something useful.
Whoever Roman was talking to was pissed. He spoke mostly English but swore in Russian.
The words betrayal, family, and obligation were said, over and over.
My eyelids drooped. Sleep pulled at the edges of my mind, but I refused to give in to it. Instead, I sat up.
It was awkward with one hand cuffed and the other tightly bandaged. It took several minutes of shimmying and head-piercing movements that made my stomach roll, but finally I was able to sit up. With my back pressed against the headboard, I gingerly reached across my body with my injured arm and snagged the glass of water.
It was cool, not cold, but I didn’t care. It was the best thing I had ever tasted. I drained it and then refilled it and drained it again. With every gulp of water, the haze cleared a little more. There was still an icepick stabbing through my temples, but a much smaller, sharper icepick.
“You’re not listening to me,” Roman said, irritation coloring words that I was finally coherent enough to understand.
“I am listening,” the other man snapped. “You’re delusional. And have forgotten where your loyalties should lie.”
“You had no right to restrain her,” Roman yelled. The rage in his words made my heart beat faster.
Was he actually defending me? Fighting for me?
Had anyone ever defended me before?
I didn’t think so, not since that one nanny who my father had killed for suggesting she knew better about how to raise a little girl.
“I don’t care,” Roman said again. “She is mine. You had no right to have her restrained, no right to her now, or ever.”
Had Roman been the one to find me? Did he save me?
Or was this an “out of the frying pan and into the fire” situation?
Just because he was defending me to someone else didn’t change a thing. I had no idea what he was planning on doing with me. When two rabid street dogs fought over a cat, the cat didn’t want either one to win.
“I had every right. You insisted on bringing that murderous woman here. Into my home, around my family.” The other man matched Roman’s anger.
They sounded so similar, it was a little unnerving.
My stomach was in knots. I strained to listen. Who did Roman betray? And how? Why? What did I have to do with that betrayal?
I didn’t know Roman very well, but everything about him screamed loyalty was the most important value to him. What could make him betray someone?
The shouting died down into hushed, tense tones.
I knew they were still there, but I couldn’t make out their words.
I let my eyes close again as I relaxed back into the surprisingly plush bedding.
With my eyes closed, I tried to listen, tried to pick up what they were saying, but I couldn’t. It was like their words were just out of reach.