King's Ransom (Ruthless Doms 3)

“The hell you will,” Stefan scoffs. “You have a family here that needs you. My going will be perfect, because you will take on my duties as pakhan in my absence, and given that you’ll be my successor, it’s an opportune time.” To my surprise, he turns to me next. “And I want Taara to eventually earn her freedom. She can prove her loyalty to me by playing her role in this.”

What does that mean? Still, hope flares in my chest. I don’t even know what he’s asking of me, but he’s casually mentioned exactly what I want. I need to know more.

I open my mouth to speak, then close it abruptly.

“You have permission to ask questions,” Stefan says, and I don’t miss the weariness in his tone.

“My… role in this? What is that? I’m confused.”

I don’t miss the way Caroline’s jaw ticks, or the way she drums her fingers on the table.

“We will board the auction ship this evening, you under the guise of being my partner. Slave, as it were. I will give you a story,” Stefan says, finishing off his drink. “The identity you will assume. And explain in detail what I expect.”

My food suddenly feels like a rock in my stomach. “Oh?” I whisper.

“Please, Stefan. Be careful,” Caroline begs. “This is no easy task you ask of her.”

“We ask no easy task of any of our women,” Tomas reminds her, squeezing her knee. “A woman connected to the Bratva knows this. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

She sighs. “Yes. But Taara is innocent,” Caroline insists, her eyes boring into her husband’s. The woman has more pluck than I do. He’s terrifying.

“Then let her prove it,” he responds.

Oh, shit. What are they talking about? What does she know that I don’t? I swallow hard. But he said there was a chance for me to prove my loyalty…

I make up my mind then. I sit up straighter. I made a mistake last night, a grave one that’s put me in this position. But I want to prove my loyalty. I want this ignominy behind me. I hate being his prisoner. I will do what it takes to earn my freedom.

I eat the rest of my meal while listening to them, trying to piece together the plans, and when we’re done, Stefan rises and takes me by the elbow. I follow. Caroline stops me at the door, though, and kisses my cheek. She looks at me with sisterly concern, her brows furrowed, lips turned down at the edges. She’s worried for me. Hell, I love that. Someone actually cares.

“Be brave, Taara,” she whispers in my ear. “And all will come right in the end. And when it comes right, you’ll come see me, won’t you?”

Be brave? Oh, God.

“Sure,” I say, though I can’t imagine anything good coming out of this.

Then she’s gone, and all I’m left with is my captor and my thoughts. He’s leading me out of the dining room by the elbow, and I barely register where I’m going. We’re going back to his house.

Stefan is issuing rapid commands in Russian to people who trot by his side. I gather some of what he says and their response.

Wait. What? We’re leaving already?

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” His staff takes commands in stride. Stefan’s face is impassive, and he doesn’t make eye contact with me, just holds me in his firm grip so I can’t get away.

“Prepare her a bag,” he says to one. “Be sure to pack whatever womanly things she needs.” He casts an angry glance at me. “You are to follow me in silence and ask no questions until further notice.”

Great. Here we go again.

And then it dawns on me. If he’s taking me to Russia, how will I see how my mother is? How long will we be gone?

“Stefan—” I begin, but in response he swings me out in front of him and slaps my ass so hard I stumble. Tears fill my eyes.

He’s still a jerk.

“I said you may not speak,” he says, his voice tight with anger.

“My mother—” I begin, unable to stifle the questions that plague me. “Sir!”

“Enough,” he snaps, then to my surprise he stops where he is and drags me out in front of him. “Do you have any idea how much danger you are in? Any idea at all? Do you know what we’re up against here? Christ!”

What the hell?

I blink at him and shake my head. I suppose I don’t.

He continues, his blue eyes alight, gripping me so tightly it hurts. “Every one of the men in the room with me today wanted you dead. We don’t give second chances here. You have one, Taara. And this is it.” He releases me and continues marching me by his side. I skip to keep up with his strides as I mull over what he’s said. But then maybe he softens or something, for a moment later, he shakes his head. “But some day, I will bring you back to your mother.”