Page 49 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

The cottage walls feel like they're closing in on me. Russ blocks the front door, his broad frame filling the doorway. Nick stands between me and the kitchen, cutting off that exit. Alex guards the hallway leading to my bedroom and the back door. They've positioned themselves strategically, probably without even thinking about it. The realization makes my stomach tighten.

The living room is small and cluttered with my work. My laptop sits open on the coffee table, surrounded by notebooks and printed articles. The couch is covered with throw pillows I bought at a thrift store, and the walls are decorated with framed prints of places I've written about but never visited.

I'm wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweater, my red hair pulled into a messy bun. I feel underdressed and vulnerable compared to their expensive clothes and controlled composure. They look like they belong in boardrooms and expensive restaurants, not my tiny cottage in the woods.

"This is my home," I say, my voice shaking with anger and desperation. "You can't just take it over because you're paranoid."

"We're not paranoid," Nick says.

"You're holding me prisoner."

"We're keeping you safe."

"From what?" I demand. "The theft has nothing to do with me. I feel bad about your employee who was hurt, but it has nothing to do with me or my life."

"From very real threats you don't understand yet," Nick says, his green eyes hardening. "You're connected to us now. That makes you valuable to people who want to hurt us."

"Then disconnect me," I snap. "Pretend last night never happened. Pretend you never met me. Go back to your illegal businesses and leave me alone."

"It's too late for that," Alex says quietly.

His voice cuts through the argument like a knife, calm and controlled. I turn to look at him, and he pushes off the wall, taking a single step forward. The movement is deliberate and measured, and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You're thinking about this wrong," Alex says, his dark eyes fixed on mine. "You're angry because you think we're threatening you. You think we're the danger."

"You are the danger," I say.

"We're not the only danger," Alex qualifies. "If you were intentionally sent to distract us, then whoever orchestrated the warehouse attack knows about you."

The words settle over me like ice water, and my anger falters.

"So?" I say, but my voice comes out weaker than I intended.

"So they're going to wonder if you're still useful," Alex continues, his tone almost gentle despite the horrifying implications. "They're going to wonder if you know something. They're going to wonder if we told you things we shouldn't have."

"I don't know anything," I say.

"That doesn't matter," Alex says. "In our world, perception is more important than truth. If they think you're valuable, they'll come for you. If they think you're a liability, they'll eliminate you. Either way, you're in danger."

The cottage feels colder suddenly. Nick watches me from the kitchen, his expression unreadable. Russ has stopped looking irritated and now looks concerned, watching my face carefully.

"You're saying I'm in danger because of you," I say slowly, trying to process what Alex is telling me.

"You're in danger because you're connected to us. Whether that connection was intentional or accidental doesn't change the reality."

"So what?" I ask, my voice rising again. "You're going to keep me locked up here forever? I'm just supposed to accept that my life is over because I made bad decisions?"

"We're going to keep you safe until we figure out what happened," Nick says. "Once we know who orchestrated the attack and why, we can assess the actual threat level."

"And if the threat level is high?" I ask.

"Then we deal with it," Nick says simply.

The casual way he says it makes my stomach turn. Deal with it. Like eliminating threats is just another item on his to-do list. Like violence is a normal part of his day.

Well, since he's mafia, it probably is just another normal day for him.