“Good. I’m glad she sent something.” He collapsed back onto the pillows. “Hurry back. I’m still fucking hard.”
I smiled and grabbed the box when he wasn’t looking then slipped into the bathroom. I closed the door, locked it, sat down on the toilet, and ripped the present open.
It was saltwater taffy.
I stared at the generic beach scene on the front. No card, no message.
Just a box of freaking taffy.
“What the hell, Cassie?” I hated saltwater taffy and she knew it.
I took off the lid.
I nearly screamed.
Inside was a phone. It was padded by bubble wrap and cotton stuffing to make sure it didn’t move—but it was a phone.
I freaked out.
A phone. She sent a phone. What the hell were they thinking? If Darren caught Roza bringing it in here, they would’ve killed her.
Wedding or not, Roza would be dead.
I pulled the phone out and stared.
This was my chance. If I was ever going to get away, this was how I’d make it happen.
“Winter, hurry up, I’m getting impatient. If you don’t get out here in ten seconds, I’m going to break down that door and fuck you so rough you won’t walk for a week.”
“Just a minute.”
Panic set in.
Cassie, my best friend.
Darren, my husband.
He kidnapped me. Stole me. I never wanted this.
And yet I was here and I was committed.
Cassie was happy with Roman.
I ripped the phone from the bubble wrap and pulled open the cabinets under the sink. I shoved the phone back behind the pipes and the cleaning products. It wasn’t a good spot, but it’d have to work for now.
I stepped away from the sink, flushed and breathing hard. I put the wrap and cotton back into the saltwater taffy box and walked back out into the bedroom.
Darren looked at me curiously.
“What’d she send you?”
I held it up. “Saltwater taffy. Want some?”
He made a face. “Who the hell likes that stuff?”
“I do. I guess more for me.”
I walked over to the bed, smiling the best I could. His eyes drifted from my face to my breasts and hips as I crawled toward him.
Sure enough, he wasn’t lying about being hard.
It was easy to distract him after that.
Hell, it was easy to distract myself.
But I didn’t forget about that phone.
My betrayal, my escape.
24
Winter
I woke up for the first time as Mrs. Winter Servant.
Darren was still asleep when I got out of bed. I walked quietly into the bathroom, closed the door, and locked it.
The phone was still tucked back behind the pipes.
I left it there and did my morning routine. I took a shower and felt a pleasant ache between my legs, and closed my eyes as the water ran down my skin, picturing Darren as he was the night before, enamored with me, intense and entirely in the moment, enjoying my body as much as I enjoyed his, and it sent a strange, bittersweet sadness coursing through my system.
I didn’t want to betray him.
And yet he had kidnapped me and forced me into all this.
It wasn’t some Stockholm Syndrome thing, or at least I hoped not. I understood him so much better than I did at the start. Roman made him seem like a power-hungry bastard, but Darren didn’t seem all that interested in taking more for himself.
As far as I could tell, he was all about protecting his family.
And about revenge.
The dynamics of the Oligarchs were in play, but not his central motivation. He seemed to genuinely want to change how the Oligarchs did business, but mostly he wanted to destroy Roman for nearly killing Anthony all those years ago.
But there were holes in the story. Like: why would Roman try to murder a little kid?
Especially if that kid was his half-brother?
I couldn’t understand it. I tried to picture it from the perspective of an Oligarch but I still didn’t see the reasoning.
And yet Darren had a grudge, and everyone in the house agreed that Roman had tried to murder Anthony.
Though I’d never asked the one person that was involved that night—Anthony himself.
He’d been away for a few days helping out with the fight against Roman. Otherwise, I’d hunt him down and see what I could learn.
I got out of the shower feeling more lost than before. Darren was awake, sitting up in bed and tapping away at his phone. He looked over as I stepped out into the room with a towel wrapped around my body.
His eyes lit up. I knew what he wanted.
“Good morning, wife.”
“Please don’t start calling me that.”
“What would you prefer then, love?”
“I don’t know. I’m just not used to the whole wife thing.” I looked around and chewed on my lip. “Do you have anything I can wear?”
“Closet.”
I poked my head inside and found that half the space had been cleared out and filled in again with my own things. The rich bastards really did think ahead.