His words struck me in the heart like a dagger.
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head, glaring right at him. “Every cage has a key, and you aren’t as powerful as you think.”
His smirk deepened. “Challenge accepted.”
The air between us cackled with a kind of tension I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. The intoxicating scent of his cologne invaded my senses, and the longer I stared into his eyes, the weaker my knees became. Not from fear but from the dangerous pull of the wicked man holding me prisoner.
He stirred something inside me—something I couldn’t quite name. It was both intriguing and disturbing.
“You can imprison me,” I said, my voice low and laced with disdain. “But you will never break me.” My face twisted into a frown.
He hesitated for a moment, then, without another word, turned around and walked away.
“Did you hear me?!” I called out, my voice echoing through the garden. “You’ll never break me!”
He ignored me, heading back into the house because he knew I wasn’t stupid enough to try anything irrational.
Furious, I scanned the surroundings, searching for other ways to get out of here. However, deep down, I knew it was dumb to even take another step. I had no idea where else that maniac had rigged booby traps.
I was obviously going to be here much longer than expected. But I wasn’t going to stop looking for ways to escape this cursed place. He might have imprisoned my body, but my spirit, mind, and soul weren’t up for grabs.
As long as my mind wasn’t caged and I still had air in my lungs, I wasn’t going to stop until I found a way out.
I let out a soft sigh, reveling in the idea that I’d stood my ground against him despite being caught in the act of trying to escape. My actions might have seemed insignificant, but to me this was a small, stubborn victory.
Chapter 10 – Roman
I was supposed to be paying attention; my mind was supposed to be as present at the meeting as my body. However, I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything other than the petite blonde locked up in my mansion.
My lips twisted into a faint smirk as I recalled the fear in her eyes after I caught her trying to escape. She didn’t know this, but I’d been watching her every move since the second she snuck out of her room in the dead of night.
Prior to that attempted escape, I already knew she wouldn’t sit back and accept her fate. Her stubbornness wouldn’t let her—besides, she had the bastard’s blood coursing through her veins. I expected some resistance, and she didn’t disappoint.
I began to suspect she’d try something silly when I noticed the way she wandered the halls. She was always paying attention to details, as if she were observing something. The way her eyes darted across the building whenever she took a “walk” around the house was suspicious.
It was clear to me that she was taking mental notes of every possible exit. I knew exactly what she was doing: studying the camera angles, learning the patrol patterns of my guards, and waiting for the right time.
I wasn’t sure when she’d decide to shoot her shot, so I watched her more closely. When she began acting more suspicious than usual, I figured she’d made up her mind that it was time.
When I discovered her plan, I thought it wise to make things easy for her. I ordered the guards to stand down for the night and leave every door unlocked—curious to see how far she’d get.
She did exactly as I expected and made a run for it. If I had waited a few seconds longer before turning on the lights, she would’ve been shot dead on the spot. Even after finding out that I saved her life, that she was only breathing because I allowed it, she still looked at me with so much hatred.
The defiance in her eyes was remarkable, and her fiery gaze stirred up the same strange emotion I always felt whenever I was around her.
I was so lost in my head that I almost forgot where I was or why I was there.
“Roman,” Andrei’s voice sliced through my thoughts. “Are you still with us?”
I blinked back to the present, my eyes narrowing at him.
The air reeked of cigar smoke and whisky, an atmosphere heavy enough to smother conversation. The chandelier above cast a warm glow over the long mahogany table that stretched across the room.
I was seated at the head of the table, my jacket draped over my chair, the sleeves of my crisp white shirt rolled up to my elbows. The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on me, a glint of suspicion on their faces.
Dmitri cleared his throat and looked in my direction. “Lucian Sokolov has been sniffing around our contacts in Prague,” he said. “As we speak, two suppliers have already gone dark this week alone.”
My brows furrowed ever so slightly, fingers drumming on the table before me.
