Chapter 6

Even so, with no plan, I still hoped I could disappear, but I was caught before I could even get very far.

The Russian grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him, covering my mouth before I could finish my scream. He lifted me off the ground and began dragging me back, almost like I was being hauled, as I struggled, hoping to be heard and seen.

It didn’t happen because I was carried back to the room, and the door was locked. I was sure I would be chained again, but he didn’t do that.

"Dammit, let me out of here! Son of a bitch! Asshole!" I was using all the insults I knew, punching his chest, being foolish enough to think my weak, thin fists could hurt a man of his size.

"I speak Spanish," he said in my native language. Or rather, he growled as he grabbed my wrists, making me realize his hands were stronger than the chains that had been put on me. "I don’t know what’s going on here, girl, but you’re not going anywhere until I understand. If you try to run, I’ll catch you again, and I suggest you pray that I do, because you have no idea where we are or what could happen to a pretty girl out there in this area."

"I don’t care. I’m more afraid of what might happen to me in here."

My confession was so firm that his cold blue eyes locked onto mine, and I saw some kind of emotion in them. It was dark enough that I couldn’t interpret it, and I didn’t even know if I wanted to.

"Listen: I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I think we need to explain things to each other."

His Spanish was heavy, as was his English, full of accent. His voice was deep, rough, intimidating, but he spoke with a certain softness, at least with me.

For a man his size, he was surprisingly gentle.

A lamb in a wolf’s skin? Or the other way around?

"I don’t have anything to explain!"

"Oh, you do. First of all: who are you?" There was a different kind of shine in his eyes, almost sarcastic.

"I should be asking that!" I responded, still furious.

I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. I wanted to get out of there.

"I didn’t know what was inside that box until I opened it."

I was almost sure he wasn’t lying because I saw it in his eyes the moment I opened mine for the first time since we met.

"But would it have made a difference if you had known?"

"Damn it! Of course it would! I wouldn’t have… accepted."

"I imagine you work for the pakhan," the man nodded, and then I let out a mocking laugh. "You’re going to try to make me believe you wouldn’t do anything for your boss?"

"I’m a man of honor, girl."

A mafioso of honor? It was laughable. But I kept my laughter trapped in my throat, purely out of self-preservation. I could be bold and not have much to lose, but the last thing I wanted was to stress a man who looked more like a giant bear and give him reasons to hurt me.

I stood still, silently, analyzing the whole situation. He was the messenger, that much was clear. He had been assigned to pick me up and take me to the pakhan. Maybe he was telling the truth and didn’t know what his mission was until that moment. He didn’t know the details, let alone that the "goods" in question was a prisoner of a woman who was going to marry against her will.

"My name is Ilya Kravtsov. What’s your name?"

I hesitated, looking into his eyes. Speaking like that, he almost seemed harmless, despite the appearance of a motorcycle gang leader.

When I still lived at home with my family, my brother used to watch a series about a Motorcycle Club. Every time I entered his room, he’d kick me out, saying it wasn’t the type of show I should be watching.

That’s the image I had of Ilya.

Still, I didn’t let myself be led so easily.

"Didn’t they tell you the pakhan’s bride’s name? How rude!"

He ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily.

"I’m confused here, corazón." The heavy accent left me wondering if the sweet nickname was used in a mocking way or to sound a little more tender. "If you don’t tell me your name, that’s how I’ll have to call you."

I hesitated, but started to think that if he hadn’t been told about my existence and the kind of work he’d have to do, he might become an ally.

I had no idea how to bring him to my side, considering the kind of loyalty I knew existed within the mafia.

"Alejandra," I replied, but I didn’t say my last name. He’d have to deal with that.

"Great, a good start."

He might have said that, but he seemed nervous. Restless. Stressed.

I took a step back, hoping to keep as much distance as possible.

"Where are we?" I asked, trying to get some answers.

"In a motel, in the middle of the road."

Everything I knew about motels made me think this one had nothing to do with those. I’d always been a curious girl about everything, and sometimes I saw, read, and heard things with school friends I shouldn’t have. I’d even gotten spanked by my mother for snooping through books I shouldn’t have.

She used to call me “chispa,” which meant spark, because I was always doing something wrong.

Until everything went wrong.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"I didn’t bring you here. I came to rest. I opened that damn chest because I was curious. Then I found you."

I wanted to believe him. But even if I did, what would that change for me? What would he do if I handed him my trust?

Not that it would be difficult, since my alternatives weren’t that great.

"What are you going to do now?" My voice trembled, hoping the answer would please me.

Ilya sat on the bed, running his hand through his beautiful hair again. He let it loose, and it cascaded down, smooth and silky, over his broad shoulders.

Looking at him from the corner of my eye, if he weren’t an ally of my biggest enemy, I could say he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life.

Not that I had many references, from all the time I spent locked away, but it was a pleasant sight.

A kind of Viking warrior, mixed with a biker and a rockstar, with huge hands and kind eyes. His lips were pinkish, framed by his blonde beard, and I wondered if he had a beautiful smile.

Not that I was interested in seeing it. I couldn’t.

"I still don’t know."

"You can’t turn me in! Please! If you didn’t know anything, you can help me!" I must have been asking too much. How could I expect anything from a man I didn’t know and who might be lying? More than that, even if that wasn’t the case, he might not want to upset his boss. Such things would be considered betrayal, wouldn’t they?

"Ilya? Please!"

I repeated the plea, making sure to say his name, because I thought that would make him more human. He had stopped being the brute thug who would hand me over to a trap and had become the man who might end up being my protector from now on.

He didn’t respond, so I decided I’d have to beg.

I took a few steps toward him and kneeled in front of him, which caused a look of surprise. I clasped my hands together, as if in prayer, and begged, feeling real tears welling up in my eyes.

"I was thirteen when I was taken from my home by men from the Cartel," I started to tell hurriedly, stumbling over my words, not even knowing if he would understand due to our language differences. "My brother handed me over to the head of the organization in exchange for a position for himself. I spent four years locked away, waiting for the moment someone would take an interest in me and buy me. I was unlucky enough to be the pakhan’s choice. But I wasn’t even eighteen yet. As soon as I turned eighteen, they came, and..."

I was going to keep talking, but Ilya placed his hands on my arms. His blue eyes locked onto mine, and I felt incredibly foolish in that submissive position.

With ease, he lifted me off the ground, helping me to stand.

"Don’t kneel," he almost growled, seeming angry.

At me? Had I said something wrong?

"Go lie down and rest. I need to take care of some things before deciding what I’m going to do."

"But..."

"No buts. I’ll stay awake, keeping an eye on you. Try to sleep. I won’t hurt you."

I might not believe him, but I didn’t have much of a choice. It was this or fight and get nowhere. Or maybe go back to the chains from before.

Taking a deep breath, I did as he told me, pulling the heavy blankets off the bed and crawling under them without saying a word.

I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I needed to stretch out on a soft mattress.

It only took a few minutes before I fell completely asleep, feeling exhaustion take over me entirely.