Her expression softened with something that looked almost like pity. "I know, dear. But that's not possible right now." She moved toward the door, then paused. "He's not a bad man, Miss Blanchard. What he's done—it's to keep you alive. I hope you'll understand that, in time."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
I stood in the center of that beautiful room, surrounded by luxury I hadn't asked for and couldn't escape, and let the tears come again. Silent. Furious. Helpless.
Through the French doors, the Mediterranean glittered in the morning light. Endless blue stretching to the horizon, beautiful and remote and impossible to cross.
I was trapped.
And I had no idea what came next.
Chapter 6 - Vasily
She paced like a wild thing.
I stood in the security room, my eyes fixed on the monitor showing Gabrielle's suite. Back and forth she moved, from the French doors to the bathroom, to the bed she hadn't touched, to the closet full of clothes she hadn't opened. Her dark hair was tangled from the flight, her borrowed robe slipping off one shoulder, her bare feet leaving faint impressions in the plush carpet.
She'd been at it for three hours. Hadn't eaten the breakfast Yelena brought. Hadn't slept despite her obvious exhaustion. Just that relentless pacing, punctuated by occasional moments where she'd stop at the window and stare out at the sea like she was calculating whether the swim to the mainland was survivable.
It wasn't. I'd made sure of that when I'd chosen this island.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor with all that staring."
I didn't turn at the sound of Vartan's voice. My youngest brother had arrived an hour ago, his helicopter touching down on the north pad while I was reviewing perimeter reports. I'd known he'd come—had expected the confrontation that was brewing in his tone.
"She's adjusting," I said.
"She's losing her mind." Vartan moved to stand beside me, his arms crossed, his expression hard. "Which is what happens when you kidnap a civilian and lock her in a gilded cage."
"I didn't have a choice."
"You had plenty of choices. You chose this one." He jabbed a finger at the screen. "Look at her, Vasily. She's terrified. She's going to be a problem."
I finally turned to face him. Vartan had our father's build—stocky, powerful, built for violence rather than strategy. The scar through his eyebrow was white against his tanned skin, a reminder of all the fights he'd started and won over the years.
"She's under my protection," I said quietly. "That makes her family business."
"Family business?" He laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. "She's not family. She's a liability. A witness who's seen our faces, been inside our most secure location. What happens when she escapes? When she goes to the authorities?"
"She won't escape."
"Everyone thinks that until they do." He stepped closer, lowering his voice even though we were alone. "There are cleaner ways to handle this, brother. Ways that don't involve keeping a hostage indefinitely."
The implication hung in the air between us—heavy, ugly, unmistakable.
"If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting," I said, my voice dropping to something dangerous, "I'd advise you to stop talking."
"I'm suggesting we think practically. She's nobody—no connections to our world, no value as a hostage, no leverage we can use. The only reason she's here is because you couldn't control your obsession."
My hand shot out before I could stop it, fisting in the front of his shirt and slamming him back against the wall. Themonitors rattled. Vartan's eyes went wide with surprise—I rarely resorted to physical confrontation with my brothers.
"She stays," I said, each word carved from ice. "She's under my protection. And if anyone—anyone—threatens her safety, I will bury them myself. Do you understand?"
Vartan held my gaze for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then he nodded once, and I released him.
"I understand," he said, straightening his shirt. "I just hope you do too. Whatever this is—" He gestured at the monitor, at Gabrielle still pacing in her beautiful prison. "It's going to cost you. Maybe more than you're willing to pay."
He left without another word. I turned back to the screen, my heart still pounding with the force of my reaction.
