I wasn’t going to sit back and waste one more second of her being captured. It was risky to throw myself on the frontlines with this, but sitting back wasn’t an option.
Not when it felt like my heart would never slow down without her safe again.
Not when my son was encouraging me to stop being so blind and admit that I had to take the chance that Claire could love me and want a life with me despite the challenges we’d face.
“Go!” I ordered, eager to race to her and end the lives of every single asshole who’d dared to harm her and scare her.
Never again.
As the car sped off again, I vowed to never, ever be so dismissive of her rejection.
Whatever she decided, she would have to be safe and far from my enemies.
But hopefully not far fromme. From the beginning, I wanted to believe we could build together.
30
CLAIRE
Jack didn’t stay long. After my initial arrival in this room, he joined the Mafia men in taunting me. They loomed over me after they tied the ropes to an anchored hook on the floor, making sure I couldn’t even stand with my arms behind my back. My face was pressed to the grimy floor, and with every hard exhale through my nose, a cloud of dirt fluffed up to irritate my eyes.
They threatened to whip and beat me, but they didn’t lay a finger on me at all.
I quickly understood that this was just a game for them. There was no doubt in my mind that they had taken me for some grand purpose. A motive lurked behind their kidnapping, something that they wanted to be rewarded for and paid for. But until they would actually make good on their threats, they wanted to play with me.
It was psychological warfare at its worst.
I flinched every time they came near. I cringed at the crude, derogatory, and threatening insults they slurred.
Sticks and stones could hurt me, but I refused to let their words mess me up.
Their whips and clubs, fists and kicks could bruise me, but I wouldn’t cower mentally.
Calling their bluff wasn’t wise, so instead, I endured the wait for what would come.
After Jack did a couple of lines of cocaine with the mobsters, laughing and joking the entire time, he left without a word. He was most definitely not here to surprise me as an ally.
The others filed out of the room too. Leaving me alone in this dark, damp, and filthy storage room was the next phase of torture. Unknowns banged around in my head like monsters I couldn’t escape. No light shone through here. No one came to give me food or water.
Only the sounds of the rats scampering and scurrying across the floor kept me company. That and the impending doom that I could die very soon.
Why did I ever leave Mikhail?
Why couldn’t I have been more practical and suggest that we could talk about a future?
Why couldn’t I have paused and thought things through more?
Regret consumed me. Every time I thought about how good I had it with him, how safe and pampered I was, I drowned in the guilt that I chose to walk away.
But that was the problem.
Thinking with him around wasn’t so easy.
I was too quick to feel. I was sucked under the sensation of being cared for, of being wanted and desired. Pleasured. Mikhail Orlov was a larger-than-life force, and it wasn’t a simple matter of being rational. It had felt impossible to think anything through with the temptation of his presence.
My stomach ached. Shivering to conserve warmth, I acknowledged that I had to be in a basement level of some nasty building. Held captive and hostage for who knew what amount. Mikhail had money, but would he pay a ransom to free me?
I doubted it.
