Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

THE FIRST DOOR

AURORA

By the second morning in Aleksandr’s room, I had learned three things about him.

He barely slept.

He drank coffee like it was water.

And he was a terrible roommate.

Not because he was messy.

The opposite.

Everything had a place.

His boots sat perfectly aligned beside the closet.

His clothes were folded.

His weapons were cleaned and locked away.

He made the bed almost immediately after getting out of it.

It was disturbing.

No one should be that organized.

The problem was that Aleksandr seemed to forget another human being was trapped in his bedroom.

At five-thirty in the morning, he got up.

At five-thirty-two, the bathroom shower started.

At five-forty-five, he came back out.

At five-fifty, he was dressed.

At five-fifty-five, he was doing something with a gun at the desk.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Metal sliding against metal.

I pulled the blanket over my head.

The clicking continued.

I yanked it down.

“Do you have to do that right now?”

Aleksandr looked over.

He was sitting at the desk.

Black shirt.

Black pants.

Hair still damp from the shower.

Of course.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re doing.”

“Cleaning.”

“I gathered that.”

He looked at the gun.

Then at me.

“It’s morning.”

“It’s barely morning.”

“Sun is up.”

“So?”

“So morning.”

I stared at him.

“I hate mornings.”

“Then sleep.”

“I was.”

He looked at the gun again.

“Not anymore.”

I grabbed the pillow and covered my face.

He resumed cleaning.

Click.

Click.

Click.

I considered throwing the pillow at him again.

Then remembered his comment yesterday.

Bad weapon.

I decided not to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I rolled onto my side.

The couch wasn’t terrible.

That was probably the nicest thing I could say about it.

It was long enough that I could stretch out completely, and sometime during the night Aleksandr had put another blanket over the back.

I hadn’t asked for it.

I hadn’t thanked him.

I wasn’t going to.

Not because I was ungrateful.

Because I was becoming very aware of how easily tiny things could confuse me.

Food.

Shampoo.

A toothbrush.

A blanket.

A changed lock.

None of those things made him good.

Prisoners shouldn’t have to thank captors for basic human necessities.

I had repeated that to myself several times.

It helped.

Mostly.

I closed my eyes.

Click.

Click.

I opened them again.

“Do you ever sleep?”

Aleksandr didn’t look up.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“At night.”

“No, you don’t.”

That got his attention.

His eyes lifted.

“You watch me?”

My face heated.

“No.”

“You know I don’t sleep.”

“Because every time I wake up, you’re awake.”

“Maybe you wake me.”

“I don’t.”

“How know?”

“Because you don’t move.”

He stared.

I realized what I’d admitted.

Damn it.

“I wasn’t watching you.”

“Okay.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you think I’m lying.”

“You are.”

I sat up.

“I woke up twice. Both times you were awake. That’s all.”

“Okay.”

“And once you were standing by the window.”

“Okay.”

“And once you were on your phone.”

“Okay.”

“Would you stop saying okay?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

I narrowed my eyes.

He returned to the gun.

I hated him.

At least at six in the morning.

Maybe especially at six in the morning.

I rubbed my face.

“What time is breakfast?”

“Seven.”

“What time is it?”

“Six-oh-three.”

I groaned.

He looked over.

“You wanted know time.”

“I didn’t want to be conscious for it.”

He almost smiled.

Almost.

I caught it.

Then remembered myself.

This wasn’t normal.

It was too easy to forget for a few seconds.

That was dangerous.

I looked toward the locked bedroom door.

Aleksandr noticed.

His expression changed.

Not much.

But the almost-amusement disappeared.

Good.

Maybe he needed the reminder too.

I pulled the blanket around my shoulders.

“Am I staying locked in here all week?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“I haven’t decided.”

My eyebrows rose.

“You haven’t decided?”

“Yes.”

“You’re my jailer now?”

“Apparently.”

“Congratulations.”

“I didn’t apply.”

I looked at him.

For once, I believed we agreed on something.

Neither of us wanted this arrangement.

That should have comforted me.

It didn’t.

“What happens when Nikolai comes back?”

Aleksandr’s hands stopped.

Only for a second.

Then continued.

“I don’t know.”

I studied him.

He knew something.

Maybe not everything.

But something.

Yesterday he’d told me to eat, sleep, and get my strength back.

Whatever comes after.

Those words had kept me awake longer than I wanted to admit.

“What if he doesn’t come back in a week?”

“He will.”

“How do you know?”

“He always does.”

“Where did he go?”

“No.”

I sighed.

“Right. Classified Russian-mafia business.”

His eyes flicked toward me.

I expected him to correct me.

He didn’t.

“Can I at least know where I am?”

“No.”

“What if I guess?”

“You’ve already tried.”

“Russia.”

Nothing.

“Canada.”

Nothing.

“Switzerland.”

Nothing.

“United States.”

His face gave absolutely nothing away.

I narrowed my eyes.

“You’re good at that.”

“At what?”

“Looking dead.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Inside.”

For one second—

silence.

Then his mouth twitched.

I immediately looked away.

Stop.

I didn’t want to make him laugh.

Didn’t want to know what amused him.

Didn’t want anything between us that resembled normal human interaction.

I stood.

The room tilted slightly.

I grabbed the back of the couch.

Aleksandr was out of his chair immediately.

I backed away just as quickly.

“Don’t.”

He stopped.

“I’m okay.”

His jaw tightened.

I corrected myself.

“I’m dizzy.”

“Better.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“You say truth.”

I hated that he remembered how often I’d told him I was fine.

He set the gun down.

“Sit.”

“I’ve been sitting.”

“Then sit more.”

“I need the bathroom.”

He moved aside.

I walked toward it.

My legs still felt weak.

Better than before.

But weak.

Eight days of barely eating had done more damage than I wanted to admit.

I closed the bathroom door.

Locked it.

Then leaned against it.

My reflection looked slightly better today.

Still pale.

Still bruised.

But better.

Food was helping.

Sleep was helping.

Sunlight was helping.

That frightened me.

Because this room was becoming comfortable.

Not home.

Never home.

But compared with the basement?

It felt almost luxurious.

That was probably how people became complacent.

Give them something horrible.

Then give them something slightly less horrible.

Suddenly the second thing felt like kindness.

I wasn’t falling for it.

I brushed my teeth.

Washed my face.

Used the bathroom.

Then stared at the shower.

I could wait.

I didn’t want to be naked with Aleksandr right outside.

Even with the door locked.

Maybe especially because I knew he could probably break through it if he wanted.

I opened the door.

He had finished cleaning the gun.

It was gone.

Locked away again.

Good.

“Can I go outside?”

The question surprised both of us.

Aleksandr looked at me.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re prisoner.”

I blinked.

At least he said it.

No pretending.

No dressing it up.

“Can I go downstairs?”

“No.”

“Can I leave this room at all?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say you hadn’t decided if I was staying locked in here all week?”

“Because I hadn’t.”

“And now?”

He stared at me.

“Still haven’t.”

I crossed my arms.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Yes.”

“You’re agreeing with me?”

“Doesn’t change answer.”

“I need to move.”

“Walk around room.”

“I’ve counted thirty-two steps from that wall to the bathroom and twenty-eight from the windows to the door.”

His expression changed.

“You counted?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing else to do.”

His eyes moved around the room.

“Books.”

“Most are Russian.”

“Some English.”

“I don’t want to read your books.”

“Then be bored.”

I stared at him.

“You’re horrible.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I know. I called you worse.”

“The Brute.”

“Exactly.”

He went back to the desk.

I paced.

Thirty-two steps.

Turn.

Thirty-two.

Turn.

Thirty-two.

By the fourth trip, I could feel him watching.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“You stare at me.”

“Because you’re dangerous.”

“So are you.”

I stopped.

Then laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was absurd.

“I’m five-foot-five and probably twenty pounds underweight right now.”

“Fifteen.”

My mouth dropped.

“What?”

“Probably fifteen.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You touched gun yesterday.”

“So?”

“You look for exits.”

My heart skipped.

“You count room.”

Silence.

“You watch doors.”

My stomach tightened.

“You listen when people walk hallway.”

I stared at him.

He leaned back in the chair.

“You are dangerous because you are thinking.”

I didn’t know whether that was a compliment or a warning.

Probably both.

“Are you going to tell Nikolai?”

“Tell him what?”

“That I’m looking for a way out.”

Aleksandr looked almost bored.

“He knows.”

“What?”

“He’d be stupid if he didn’t.”

I swallowed.

“And you’re going to stop me.”

“Yes.”

“Every time?”

“If I can.”

“If you can?”

His expression went cold.

“I can.”

There was the Brute.

I looked away.

Fear settled back where it belonged.

Good.

I needed it.

I needed to remember.

He could joke.

He could buy shampoo.

He could stop men from entering his room.

He could also physically overpower me without trying.

I walked back to the couch.

Sat.

Silence stretched.

Then Aleksandr’s phone rang.

He looked at the screen.

Something in his expression changed.

He answered in Russian.

I listened.

Not because I understood.

Because tone mattered.

His voice became colder.

The person on the other end spoke for a long time.

Aleksandr interrupted once.

Then twice.

His jaw tightened.

Finally—

“No.”

English.

Then Russian again.

A longer pause.

“No.”

He ended the call.

I watched.

He looked at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You stare.”

“You say that a lot.”

“Because you stare a lot.”

“Who was that?”

“No.”

“Nikolai?”

His expression answered before he did.

“Yes.”

My stomach tightened.

“What did he want?”

Aleksandr stood.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yes.”

I blinked.

I still wasn’t used to him admitting it.

“Was it about me?”

He didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

“What did he say?”

“Get dressed.”

I looked down.

I was wearing his sweatpants and shirt.

“I am dressed.”

“Shoes.”

My heart jumped.

“Why?”

He walked toward the closet.

“You’re leaving room.”

Everything inside me went still.

“What?”

“You wanted move.”

“Where are we going?”

He pulled out a pair of sneakers.

Not his.

Mine?

No.

Women’s.

Plain white.

New.

He set them on the floor.

“Put.”

I stared at them.

“Where did those come from?”

“Elena.”

“Who’s Elena?”

“Housekeeper.”

“There’s a housekeeper?”

“Several.”

“Women?”

“Yes.”

My heart jumped.

There were women here.

I hadn’t seen any.

“Can I talk to them?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re going downstairs.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I know.”

I stared at him.

“Where downstairs?”

“Kitchen.”

That was not what I’d expected.

“The kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Breakfast.”

“You said breakfast was coming here.”

“Plans changed.”

“Because Nikolai called?”

He didn’t answer.

My stomach twisted.

“What did he say?”

“Shoes.”

“Aleksandr.”

His eyes lifted.

“Do you want leave room or not?”

I hated that he knew the answer.

I grabbed the shoes.

They fit.

Of course they did.

Someone knew my shoe size.

I didn’t like that.

Aleksandr walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

He looked at me.

“Rules.”

I almost rolled my eyes.

Of course there were rules.

“Stay beside me.”

I said nothing.

“Don’t run.”

Still nothing.

“Don’t touch doors.”

I crossed my arms.

“Anything else?”

“Don’t talk to guards.”

“Why?”

“Because I said.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“It’s enough.”

“No, it isn’t.”

His jaw tightened.

“Because some of them will lie to you.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

“Why?”

“Because they know you’re looking for escape.”

My stomach sank.

“And?”

“And they’ll use it.”

“How?”

He stared.

I remembered Sergei and Pavel outside the room.

Maybe I didn’t want the explanation.

“If someone tells you they can help you,” Aleksandr continued, “don’t believe them.”

“What if they actually can?”

“They can’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because anyone who helps you escape signs death sentence.”

The words settled heavily between us.

“For me?”

“For them.”

I swallowed.

“And me?”

He looked at me.

“Nikolai wants you alive.”

That wasn’t comforting.

Not even slightly.

“Stay beside me.”

He unlocked the door.

My pulse increased.

Freedom.

Not real freedom.

A hallway.

But after two days between the basement and this room, a hallway felt enormous.

Aleksandr opened the door.

“Ready?”

No.

“Yes.”

He stepped out.

I followed.

The first thing I noticed was the silence.

The mansion was enormous.

Yet quiet.

Not peaceful.

Controlled.

Men stood at intervals throughout the hall.

Black clothing.

Weapons.

Some looked at me.

Most immediately looked away when they saw Aleksandr.

Interesting.

We passed the place where Sergei and Pavel had stood yesterday.

Neither was there.

I wondered where they were.

I didn’t ask.

Aleksandr walked at a pace I could manage.

I noticed that too.

He didn’t grab me.

Didn’t hold my arm.

Didn’t put a chain around me.

But he stayed close enough that running would be pointless.

We reached a staircase.

My breath caught.

Huge.

Curved.

Dark wood.

The foyer below was beautiful.

Marble floors.

Massive chandelier.

Tall windows.

A fireplace large enough for me to stand inside.

And—

the front door.

My entire body reacted.

I stopped.

Aleksandr stopped too.

The door was maybe fifty feet away.

Double doors.

Wood.

Glass.

Freedom on the other side.

Two guards stood near it.

Another sat at a security station.

Camera monitors.

Electronic locks.

Still—

a door.

My heart pounded.

I stared too long.

Aleksandr stepped into my line of sight.

I looked up.

“No.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You were thinking.”

“Apparently that’s dangerous.”

His expression didn’t change.

“Come.”

He continued down the stairs.

I followed.

My eyes moved everywhere.

Hallway left.

Hallway right.

Front door.

Security desk.

Three guards.

Camera above staircase.

Another camera facing front entrance.

Window locks.

I memorized everything.

“Stop.”

I looked at Aleksandr.

“What?”

“You’re obvious.”

Heat touched my face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You look at every camera.”

Damn it.

“I’ve never seen a house like this.”

“Bad liar.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Get better at lying.”

I glared.

One of the guards nearby looked at me.

Then quickly away when Aleksandr turned his head.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

We entered another hallway.

I smelled coffee.

Bread.

Bacon.

My stomach immediately responded.

Aleksandr looked down.

“Don’t.”

I frowned.

“Don’t what?”

“Your stomach.”

I stared at him.

“Would you like me to explain anatomy to you?”

For half a second, his mouth twitched.

I hated when that happened.

The kitchen was enormous.

Not a kitchen.

A professional kitchen.

Stainless-steel appliances.

Double ovens.

Huge island.

Three refrigerators.

Copper pots hanging overhead.

And people.

Actual people.

A woman stood at the stove.

Maybe fifty.

Dark hair streaked with gray.

Another younger woman was cutting fruit.

Two men sat at the far end of a long table.

Conversation stopped when we entered.

Every eye went to me.

I immediately stepped closer to Aleksandr.

The movement happened before I could stop it.

I realized.

So did he.

I moved away again.

His expression gave nothing away.

The older woman looked at me.

Her face softened.

“Aurora?”

I froze.

She knew my name.

Aleksandr said something in Russian.

The woman frowned at him.

Then answered in English.

“I speak English, Aleksandr.”

“Then use it.”

She rolled her eyes.

Actually rolled her eyes at him.

I stared.

She wasn’t afraid.

Interesting.

The woman wiped her hands on a towel.

“I’m Elena.”

The housekeeper.

I nodded.

“Hi.”

She looked me over.

Not the way Nikolai did.

Not evaluating.

Concerned.

“You’re too thin.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Aleksandr did.

“Working on it.”

Elena looked at him.

“She is person, not project.”

“I know.”

My chest tightened.

Elena pointed toward the table.

“Sit.”

I hesitated.

Aleksandr pulled out a chair.

I looked at him.

“What?”

“Sit.”

I sat.

He took the chair beside me.

The two men at the far end of the table stood.

One spoke Russian.

Aleksandr answered.

They left.

Fast.

I watched.

“Do people always leave when you walk into a room?”

“Sometimes.”

Elena snorted.

“Yes.”

I looked at her.

Aleksandr glared.

Elena ignored him.

I liked her immediately.

That was probably dangerous too.

She placed a plate in front of me.

Eggs.

Potatoes.

Toast.

Bacon.

Fruit.

I stared.

“You don’t have to eat all,” Elena said. “Small portions. Your stomach needs time.”

“Thank you.”

“Tea?”

“Coffee.”

Aleksandr said, “Tea.”

I looked at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Coffee on empty stomach.”

“My stomach isn’t empty.”

“Was.”

“Yesterday.”

“Still recovering.”

I stared.

Elena looked between us.

Then smiled slightly.

“I make both.”

“Thank you.”

Aleksandr muttered something Russian.

Elena answered sharply.

I wished desperately that I understood.

“What did she say?”

“No.”

I looked at Elena.

“What did you say?”

Her smile widened.

Aleksandr’s eyes narrowed.

Elena poured coffee.

“I told him he has terrible manners.”

I looked at Aleksandr.

“She’s right.”

He looked betrayed.

Not actually.

But close enough that I almost laughed.

Elena set coffee in front of me.

Then tea.

“Choose.”

I picked coffee.

Aleksandr shook his head.

I took a deliberate sip.

His expression said I was an idiot.

I smiled into the cup.

Then stopped.

Again.

Too normal.

I put the cup down.

Elena noticed the change.

She didn’t comment.

Instead, she touched the back of the empty chair across from me.

“I bring clothes later.”

“Thank you.”

“Proper clothes.”

I glanced at Aleksandr’s enormous shirt.

“That would be nice.”

“What size?”

I told her.

“Shoes fit?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She looked at Aleksandr.

“You guessed right.”

I froze.

I turned slowly.

“You guessed my shoe size?”

Aleksandr ate a piece of bacon.

“Yes.”

“How?”

He looked at my feet.

“Eyes.”

“That’s creepy.”

Elena laughed.

Aleksandr ignored both of us.

I ate.

Slowly.

Listened.

Watched.

A guard entered through a side door.

Side door.

My attention sharpened.

He carried a crate of vegetables.

Outside delivery?

The door opened briefly.

Sunlight.

Cold air.

I saw pavement.

A vehicle.

My heart accelerated.

Aleksandr’s voice came quietly beside me.

“Don’t.”

I kept looking.

“Don’t what?”

“Think about it.”

I turned.

“You’re not inside my head.”

“Don’t need be.”

The guard carried the crate toward the pantry.

The door closed.

Electronic lock clicked.

I memorized it.

Side kitchen entrance.

One guard.

Possible deliveries.

Maybe morning.

Aleksandr’s eyes remained on me.

I took another bite.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop staring.”

“You’re planning.”

“I’m eating eggs.”

“While planning.”

I leaned closer.

“Maybe I just really like doors.”

“Apparently.”

I sat back.

Elena hid a smile.

The younger woman at the counter whispered something.

Elena answered.

I looked over.

The girl couldn’t have been older than twenty.

Maybe twenty-one.

She glanced at me.

Then quickly away.

“What’s her name?”

Elena answered.

“Katya.”

“Does she speak English?”

Katya looked over.

“A little.”

“Hi.”

She gave a shy smile.

“Hello.”

Aleksandr’s posture changed.

Tiny.

But I felt it.

He didn’t want me talking to them.

Interesting.

I turned toward Katya.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Aurora.”

Aleksandr’s voice.

I ignored him.

Katya hesitated.

“Two years.”

“Do you live here?”

“Aurora.”

I looked at him.

“What?”

“Eat.”

“I’m eating.”

“Then eat.”

“Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”

“Not that one.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re asking questions.”

“People do that during conversations.”

Elena turned away to hide another smile.

Aleksandr looked less amused.

“You’re not subtle.”

“I never claimed to be.”

“Finish breakfast.”

I stared.

Then deliberately took another bite.

He looked away.

I wanted to scream.

Not because he was rude.

Because I had been so close to learning something.

Did staff live here?

Did they leave?

How often?

Could I hide in a vehicle?

Could I—

Stop.

Not with him sitting beside me.

I ate.

Watched.

Memorized.

Kitchen door.

Hallway.

Staff.

Guard schedule.

Everything mattered.

Then the kitchen door opened again.

A man entered.

Tall.

Blond.

Maybe thirty.

He looked at me immediately.

Not casually.

Slowly.

His eyes moved down my body.

Then back up.

My stomach tightened.

Aleksandr stopped eating.

The entire room changed.

The man noticed.

“Morning.”

Aleksandr didn’t answer.

The man smiled at me.

“You must be Aurora.”

I didn’t respond.

He walked closer.

Aleksandr stood.

That was all.

Just stood.

The man stopped.

His smile faded slightly.

“I only said hello.”

Aleksandr spoke in Russian.

Quietly.

The blond man’s face changed.

He answered.

Aleksandr said one word.

The man left.

I stared at the doorway.

Then Aleksandr.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing.”

“Finish.”

“Who was he?”

“Roman.”

“What does he do?”

“Security.”

“Why did you make him leave?”

Aleksandr sat.

“Because he annoys me.”

Elena slammed a pan onto the stove.

Aleksandr looked over.

She said something Russian.

He answered.

She pointed at me.

Then at him.

I watched like I was at a tennis match.

“What?”

Neither answered.

“Elena?”

She looked at me.

“Aleksandr thinks if he gives half answers, people stop asking questions.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He has done this since boy.”

Aleksandr closed his eyes briefly.

I stared at Elena.

“You knew him as a child?”

“Yes.”

Aleksandr said something sharp in Russian.

Elena ignored him.

My curiosity exploded.

“What was he like?”

“Aurora.”

I looked at Aleksandr.

He looked genuinely annoyed now.

Good.

“What?”

“Breakfast finished.”

“It isn’t.”

“It is now.”

He stood.

I looked at Elena.

She was smiling.

I liked her more every second.

Aleksandr picked up my plate.

I grabbed my toast before he could take it.

“I’m still eating that.”

He stared at my hand.

I took a bite.

Elena laughed.

A real laugh.

The sound hit me unexpectedly.

I hadn’t heard a woman laugh since the engagement party.

For a second, my throat tightened.

Home.

Whitney.

Normal life.

I looked down.

Aleksandr noticed.

He put the plate back.

“Finish.”

His voice was quieter.

I hated that he noticed.

I hated even more that he understood.

So I ate the rest of the toast.

Then stood.

“Thank you, Elena.”

“Come tomorrow.”

My heart jumped.

I looked at Aleksandr.

He said nothing.

Maybe that meant yes.

Maybe not.

Katya gave me another small smile.

I returned it.

Then followed Aleksandr out.

We were halfway across the foyer when the front door opened.

Cold air rushed inside.

I stopped.

A vehicle was parked outside.

Black SUV.

Engine running.

One guard stood beside it.

Another carried bags toward the house.

Beyond them—

a driveway.

Trees.

A gate in the distance.

My heart slammed.

The door.

Open.

Aleksandr was several steps ahead.

The guards were distracted.

The security desk—

one man.

I didn’t think.

That was the problem.

If I’d thought, I wouldn’t have done it.

I ran.

“Aurora.”

Aleksandr’s voice behind me.

I kept going.

My legs hurt.

My feet slipped against marble.

But the door was open.

Twenty feet.

Fifteen.

Ten.

One guard turned.

His eyes widened.

I reached the doorway.

Cold air hit my face.

Outside.

I was outside.

For the first time in eight days.

I ran down the steps.

“Aurora!”

Five steps.

Pavement.

Trees.

The gate.

So far.

Too far.

But I ran.

My lungs burned.

The SUV driver climbed out.

I changed direction.

Grass.

Forest.

If I reached the trees—

An arm wrapped around my waist.

I screamed.

My feet left the ground.

“No!”

Aleksandr.

I fought instantly.

Elbow.

Knee.

Anything.

“Put me down!”

He held me against his chest.

“Stop.”

“Let me go!”

“No.”

I kicked backward.

My heel connected with his shin.

He cursed.

Good.

“Let me go!”

I clawed at his arm.

He tightened his hold.

Not crushing.

Enough.

I couldn’t move.

Panic exploded.

The basement.

Hair.

Chain.

No.

“No!”

My voice broke.

I bit him.

Hard.

Aleksandr swore.

His grip loosened for half a second.

I twisted.

Almost free.

Then he caught both my wrists.

Turned me.

My back hit the side of the SUV.

He stood in front of me.

Huge.

Angry.

Terrifying.

My fight disappeared.

Just like that.

Fear took over.

I pressed myself against the vehicle.

His breathing was heavy.

Blood marked his forearm where I’d bitten him.

His eyes were dark.

Furious.

I waited for him to hit me.

My body knew what came after making a dangerous man angry.

I turned my face away.

Closed my eyes.

Nothing happened.

Seconds passed.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes.

Aleksandr was staring at me.

Then his gaze dropped.

My wrists.

He was holding them too tightly.

He released me immediately.

I pulled them against my chest.

His jaw flexed.

“Inside.”

I shook my head.

“Aurora.”

“No.”

“You can’t stay outside.”

“I won’t run.”

“Liar.”

Tears burned my eyes.

“I just want five minutes.”

He stared.

“Please.”

His expression changed.

I hated begging him.

Hated it.

But the sky was above me.

Real sky.

Wind moved through my hair.

The air smelled like pine and snow.

I could hear birds.

I couldn’t go back inside yet.

“Five minutes,” I whispered.

Aleksandr looked toward the guards.

They were staring.

His face hardened.

He said something in Russian.

Every guard looked away.

Then he looked at me.

“Five.”

I stared.

“What?”

“Minutes.”

He stepped away.

Not far.

Maybe ten feet.

But enough.

I turned toward the mountains.

The air hurt my lungs.

Cold.

Beautiful.

I breathed it anyway.

Deep.

Again.

Again.

Tears slid down my face.

I didn’t wipe them.

I walked onto the grass.

Aleksandr let me.

Three steps.

Four.

Five.

Then—

“Enough.”

I stopped.

Of course.

An invisible leash.

I looked toward the gate.

Maybe a quarter mile.

Electronic.

Guards.

Cameras.

Forest beyond.

I wouldn’t have made it.

Not today.

But I had learned something.

The front door wasn’t impossible.

The kitchen had another exit.

Staff came and went.

Vehicles came through the gate.

There were opportunities.

I just needed a better plan.

“You were going to forest,” Aleksandr said behind me.

I didn’t turn.

“Yes.”

“You’d freeze.”

“I’d take my chances.”

“Wolves.”

I looked back.

“What?”

“Wolves.”

“You’re lying.”

“No.”

I studied his face.

Damn it.

“Actual wolves?”

“Yes.”

“Of course there are.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Disappointed?”

“I’m kidnapped by Russian mobsters in a mountain mansion surrounded by armed guards and wolves. Why would I be surprised?”

His mouth twitched.

I glared.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not.”

“You want to.”

“Little.”

“Asshole.”

He nodded.

“Also heard.”

I turned back toward the mountains.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then I asked—

“Are we in Russia?”

“No answer.

“Canada?”

Nothing.

“Colorado?”

His face remained blank.

“Montana?”

Nothing.

“Alaska?”

Nothing.

I narrowed my eyes.

“You’re impossible.”

“Time.”

My stomach sank.

Five minutes already?

Probably more.

I looked toward the house.

Then the sky.

I didn’t want to go.

Aleksandr waited.

He didn’t grab me.

Didn’t order again.

That somehow made it worse.

I walked back voluntarily.

Every step toward the house felt like failure.

When I reached him, he moved aside.

“After you.”

I looked at the blood on his arm.

My teeth marks.

Guilt flashed.

I crushed it.

He kidnapped me.

Well—

Nikolai kidnapped me.

Aleksandr kept me here.

Close enough.

“Your arm is bleeding.”

He looked down.

“You bite hard.”

“You deserved it.”

“Probably.”

That irritated me.

“Stop agreeing with me.”

He looked genuinely confused.

“Why?”

“Because I want to be angry.”

“You are.”

“You’re making it difficult.”

“Not my problem.”

There.

Better.

I walked toward the steps.

Then stopped.

“Are you going to chain me again?”

The question came quietly.

Aleksandr stopped behind me.

“No.”

I turned.

“Why not?”

“You’ll try again.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“I know.”

“So why?”

His eyes met mine.

“Because next time you need better plan.”

I stared.

“What?”

He walked past me.

“Inside.”

I remained frozen for half a second.

Had he just—

No.

He couldn’t be encouraging me.

Could he?

I followed.

Once the front door closed, the lock sounded louder than before.

Click.

Freedom disappearing again.

Aleksandr headed toward the stairs.

I followed.

But my mind stayed outside.

The gate.

The forest.

The kitchen door.

The SUV.

The staff.

The guards.

I had failed.

But failure wasn’t useless if you learned from it.

And I had learned a lot.

When we reached his bedroom, Aleksandr unlocked the door.

I stepped inside.

He followed.

Locked it.

I turned.

“Why did you give me five minutes?”

He looked at me.

“Because you asked.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t believe him.

But I let it go.

For once.

Aleksandr walked toward the bathroom.

I watched.

“Where are you going?”

“Clean this.”

He held up his bitten arm.

I winced.

“Right.”

He reached the bathroom.

“Aleksandr.”

He looked back.

“I’m going to escape.”

No smile.

No amusement.

No anger.

“I know.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“If I get another chance, I’ll run.”

“I know.”

“And if I have to hurt you to do it—”

His eyes settled on mine.

Fear moved through me.

But I finished.

“I will.”

Aleksandr looked at the bite on his arm.

Then back at me.

“I know.”

That was all.

He entered the bathroom.

Closed the door.

I stood alone.

My heart was pounding.

Not because of what I’d said.

Because he believed me.

He wasn’t treating me like some helpless girl who would eventually accept captivity.

He expected me to fight.

Expected me to run.

Expected me to hate him.

Good.

Because I did.

At least—

I thought I did.

And right now?

That was enough.