EMERY
The first thing I feel is the pain.
It’s a sharp, distant ache between my eyes. Like my head has been encased in cement. My ears ring, my eyes are heavy, and my mouth tastes like metal.
Then I become aware of my body. Of the stiffness in my arms and legs, the strain in my shoulders.
I try to lift my hands from behind my back, but I can’t. Duct tape cuts into my wrists and the skin of my hands.
And then my last memories start to unfold in my mind.
Yelling for Isabella to run.
The blow to my head.
Falling, falling—then darkness.
“Rise and shine,” a female voice calls out in my ear.
I jolt, fear coursing through me.
Sofia.
I struggle to open my eyes, fighting against the desire to slip back into unconsciousness.
Why didn’t she just kill me in my sleep? Maybe it makes me a coward, but I’d rather die while I’m dreaming than begging for my life.
“Oh, don’t be a baby. I didn’t hit you that hard,” she tuts. I can hear her circling around me, her footsteps tapping against the floor.
I lift my head slowly, ignoring the way my brain seems to slosh against the sides of my skull. With painstaking determination, I peel my eyelids open.
The world is bright, though. Too bright. Watery light blinds me, and I blink until the picture starts to come together. Until I can start to piece together what I’m seeing.
A supple leather couch in dappled sunshine. Large windows with forest views. The dead, bloodied body of a groundskeeper crumbled in the corner.
Maybe I am dreaming after all.
I frown, looking around the familiar room. Then, finally, it clicks. “The cabin.”
“My cabin,” Sofia snaps, stepping into my line of sight.
She’s ditched the leggings and sports bra she had on earlier, opting instead for a pair of ripped jeans, a tight black shirt, and sky-high heels.
“Not a very practical outfit for holding someone hostage,” I mumble, annoyed by how weak my voice sounds. My throat is parched. I’d believe her if she told me I’ve been out for days. “Then again, that’s more your area of expertise than mine.”
She arches a sculpted eyebrow. “Maybe I hit you harder than I thought. You’re not making any sense.”
I shake my head and look around for anyone else. But we’re alone. Except for—oh God, whatever she did to Sasha is the stuff of nightmares. He’s mutilated. Long since dead, the blood on his face and torso dried to a repulsive crust.
“Recognize this place, do you?” she asks, smirking. She follows my gaze to see Sasha in the corner. “Oh, he put up such an irritating little fight. But anyway, unimportant. I can see it in your eyes—you do recognize this place. You and Adrik played a nice little game of house up here. Did he tell you it was mine first?”
“The cabin is Adrik’s,” I say, taking a deep sip of air to steady my pounding head. “He bought it.”
“Well, sure, if you want to get all legalese about it,” she says. “But, call me old-fashioned, I think once you’ve fucked in every room of a house, it gives you some level of ownership.”
For a second, rage blots out my fear. I narrow my eyes. “Fine. You can have the cabin. I’ll settle for his heart.”
Sofia stares at me for a second and then laughs. “That is exactly why you’re here, actually. It’s hard to get revenge on a man who doesn’t have any weaknesses. My brother worked for Adrik for years. Then I was engaged to him and still, nothing. No way for the Volandri mafia to get under his skin and weaken him.”
“Because Adrik is stronger than you. You can’t touch him.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she says, wagging a finger at me. “Because for some confounding reason… he loves you.”
I’ve had my fair share of doubts about Adrik’s feelings for me. His life is complicated, and he doesn’t love easily. The process of getting to know him and coming to understand him hasn’t been without its challenges.
But I did it.
And I know without a doubt that Sofia is right.
I shake my head anyway. “Adrik doesn’t love anyone except himself. Our marriage is a sham. It was just to make sure he could inherit the Bratva from his dad.”
I have no choice but to lie. If Sofia thinks Adrik and I are in love, I don’t stand a chance.
“I don’t pretend to know all the details,” she admits with a shrug, circling around behind me again. My spine tingles as she sidles close, her hands coming to rest on my shoulders. “But I know Adrik. And I know what it looks like when he is in love. I know because he never looked at me the way he looks at you.”
There’s obvious bitterness in her voice.
“You were just a spy. Why do you care if he loved you or not?” I ask.
Her nails bite into my shoulders before she lets go and spins away from my chair. “Don’t get me wrong—he was fond of me. We had our fun. God knows we fucked plenty. But it was never a deep connection. Not deep enough for me to get into his head or learn his secrets. Not the way you have.”
Sofia disappears down the hallway. I call after her. “Whatever information you want to get out of me, I probably don’t know. But even if I do, I’ll die before I tell you anything.”
I’m suddenly grateful for all the times Adrik refused to tell me what was going on or explain things to me. All along, he was protecting me. He’s been protecting me since the day we met.
And I can’t help but hope he’ll come through and save me one more time.
Because I really don’t want to die. Not when life finally seems worth living.
Tears well in my eyes. I want to swipe them away, but my hands are still taped together. A tear rolls down my cheek just as Sofia appears in the hallway again, a large cardboard box in her hands.
She pouts out her lower lip, feigning sympathy even while a smile spreads across her scarred face. “Poor thing. Save your tears. I’m not going to interrogate you. Quite honestly, I don’t give a fuck what you have to say.”
I set my jaw, glaring at her. “Then what do you want?”
Sofia reaches into the box and pulls out a bright red gas canister. She holds her arm out and tips the can, splattering gasoline on the wool rug a few feet from my chair. “I want to kill you.”
The smell of gasoline is instantly overwhelming, and I feel woozy. The fumes can’t be good for the baby. But being burned alive is undoubtedly worse.
One problem at a time, I think, my panicked brain spinning like an unhinged Ferris wheel.
“What does killing me solve?” I ask. “I’m nobody. I don’t have any money or power. I don’t have anything you want.”
Sofia splashes gasoline on the sofa and the curtains. She looks casual, as if she’s watering a garden instead of sealing my fate. “You have everything I want, Emery. Because I want revenge.”
“What have I ever done to you?” I snap. “I thought you were dead!”
She rolls her eyes. “I know you have Adrik wrapped around your finger, but the world, in fact, does not revolve around you.”
“Adrik wrapped around my—” I bark out a laugh. “Do you know the man at all? No one controls him.”
“I will,” she seethes. “When I kill you, I’ll be responsible for bringing Adrik Tasarov to his knees. Right where the motherfucker belongs.”
Suddenly, Sofia snaps her attention towards the front door. And I realize the doorknob is rattling. Someone is coming in.
My heart leaps, hope dancing wildly behind my rib cage. Please let it be Adrik. Please let it be Adrik.
Then the door opens, and a voice calls out. “Oh, Lucy, I’m hooooome.”