I stop short and stare at him. Did he really just say that?
I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Oh, that’s rich.”
He arches an eyebrow, daring me to finish that thought.
“I didn’t even know I was aBratva daughteruntil last night,” I remind him. “I wasn’t exactly taught the etiquette of the position.”
Something flickers in his eyes. Amusement, maybe. Or approval. It’s gone before I can be sure.
“No better time than the present to learn,” he quips. “The first lesson: we don’t use outside communication unless absolutely necessary.”
I run my hands over my face in frustration.
“I just want to tell my dad I’m alive,” I say with a little desperation. “You can stand right there the whole time and make sure I don’t say anything that gives away where I am.”
Andrei considers this for a moment, and I think I might be getting through to him when he shoots back another, decisive, “No.”
I feel something inside of me snap. Anger replaces the panic, and he’s the only one here I can take it out on.
“You aren’t the boss of me,” I say, cringing at how petulant and childish I sound. “Just because we slept together doesn’t mean you get to dictate my every move from now on.”
The words hang between us, heavier than I intended. His jaw tightens slightly and I swear I see a look of regret pass over his face, but it’s gone before I can really examine it.
“That wasn’t my intention,” he says simply, turning back to his computer. “But I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
I growl in frustration and storm back to the room, slamming the door behind me. I sit on the bed, fuming, wondering what the hell is going to happen. How long am I supposed to stay in this shithole apartment with no contact with the outside world? How long will I be stuck in such close proximity to such an infuriating man?
Thoughts of Andrei soon transform into thoughts of Kostya, and I feel the panic building once more. I have so many questions about last night, about the last six months, maybe about my entire life. Who exactly is Kostya? What’s his role in all of this? I take a deep breath and force myself to go back to the living room. If he won’t let me talk with the outside world, the least he can do is answer a few questions.
“Can you at least tell me what happened last night?” I ask, standing in front of him and crossing my arms.
Andrei puts his computer on the coffee table and leans back against the couch, studying me. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.
“I mean,” I start slowly. “Why would someone try to kill you the night of my engagement party? Was the party just a ruse to getto you? Is Kostya even who I thought he was, or has he been planning this the whole time?”
His lips quirk up in a smirk as he lets me air out all my questions.
“Why wouldn’t my dad tell me about the Bratva? Why would he let me think he’s a dock worker all this time? Why?—”
“Alina,” Andrei says patiently. “I can’t even begin to answer any of those questions. I’m trying to get to the bottom of what is going on. Until I do, I think you need to learn to be content with the unknown.”
I turn away, breathing through the frustration. My entire body feels wrung out.
“Can you at least tell me how long we’ll be here?” I ask in a small voice.
“Unfortunately, I can’t,” he answers with an apologetic smile. “It will take as long as it takes.”
“This is all too much,” I huff out. “I need something normal. I feel like I’m spinning out of control here.”
He studies me for a long moment, then nods once.
“I’ll have my men bring you a few things,” he says.
My face lights up with hope. “A phone?”
“No,” he answers firmly.
“A tablet?”
