CHAPTER FOUR

It's been a week, and any last remnants of Kaia's optimism were extinguished by the hunger gnawing at her insides. After all, her daily ration only consist of one slice of hard bread and a small bottle of water. She felt very tired and weak, and sometimes she also feel dizzy. In all her life she had never known true hunger, not until now.

Kaia knew that if she didn’t have low blood sugar, it probably would have been nowhere as bad, but it was a small comfort when hunger kept her awake at night, curling up on the narrow bed, the only piece of furniture in the room she was kept in.

The worst part was how some of the guards liked to torture her by eating all kinds of delicious-smelling food in front of her, laughing when she stared at them with hungry eyes and drooling mouth. Thankfully though, that's the only abuse they're giving her. Because in most cases she knew that a woman like her can experience much worse.

Their boss hadn’t made an appearance yet. From what Kaia had overheard, he wasn’t even in this place. So she felt so stupid the first night for expecting a visit from the main bad guy.

It wasn’t a cheesy Hollywood movie where the villain always came to gloat and share his evil plans with the victim. In all likelihood, she and her well-being were completely insignificant in the grand scheme of things to the person behind all of this.

This kidnapping clearly was nothing personal, and the bad guy didn’t have to explain anything to her.

One evening, Kaia lay curled up in bed, shivering from cold and holding her stomach, when she heard the sound of the locks turning. She tensed. They had already fed her that morning. What they wanted to do this late? Is she finally out of luck?

Kaia tried to stand, but it probably wasn’t a good idea considering how fatigued she was, so she settled for sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Even that drained her of what little energy she had left, and she had to breathe deeply to fight the sudden bout of dizziness that washed over her. She wasn’t going to faint, dammit. Not now.

The door opened and closed, but her vision was still swimming and she could only make out the blurry tall figure that had entered the room.

A moment later, her vision finally sharpened, the world came into focus, and Kaia found herself gasping as she met the glazier blue eyes of Eton Domino.

The hell? What is he doing here? Is he really the mastermind behind her kidnapping all along?

In the past week, she had thought of Domino a few times, wondering if he had anything to do with the kidnapping, but she had dismissed the idea. He was a condescending dick, and his eyes totally creeped her out, but it didn’t mean the guy was a criminal. She repeatedly assured herself that the “filthy-rich Italian tycoons” didn’t equal “Italian mafia.” Because come on, this is not some weird k pop drama series right?Well, clearly she’d been wrong.

For a long moment, there was only silence as they looked at each other.

Kaia fidgeted, feeling more than a little self-conscious. She probably looked pathetic. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing the same red dress from a week ago, but now it was crumpled, dirty, and stained with God's know what.

All in all, if this bastard had been unimpressed with her a week ago, when she had looked her best, he was unlikely to take her seriously now that she looked like a beggar.

“What do you want with me? Why do you kidnap me?” Kaia said calmly—or at least she thought so, but her voice was shaking.

Eton's inscrutable expression didn’t change. He continued looking at her in silence, his gaze sharp. It was a hundred times more unnerving than any words.

Kaia fought the urge to squirm. “Look, whatever issue you have with my father, I know nothing of it. Just let me go, okay?”

The man stepped closer and grabbed her chin in an iron-like grip, so hard it hurt. “What are you playing at?”

Kaia blinked up at him, confused. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly, trying not to wince from pain or show her fear. But she's afraid that this guy was here to kill her

Eton's lips thinned. “Who do you take me for?” he said. “Why did Kennedy sent me his only daughter? Unarmed, no bodyguards, no precautions at all? Kidnapping you was laughably easy.”

Kaia couldn’t help but laugh, though her lips were dry and probably bleeding from cracks that formed over it.

“Sorry? You sound so disappointed.” she spat sarcastically.

The man stared down at her, as if she was some strange creature that didn’t make any sense. “You can’t possibly be such a clueless child,” he said in disgust, letting go of her and straightening up.

Kaia studied him curiously, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. If the guy was unable to see past her looks, she could use that.

Maybe her youthful appearance would finally be good for something. Well, she knew that her past boyfriends always like her face and body. She could play it up, pretend to be totally harmless and clueless—pretend to be the vulnerable teenager she certainly wasn’t. Kaia was an optimist at heart. She was a firm believer that completely evil people didn’t exist. Even the most heartless, hardened criminals would think twice before mistreating a vulnerable beautiful girl, right?

Well, it was worth a try. With what she's been through, there's nothing more to lose, right?

Kaia put on her best puppy-dog eyes and looked up at the other man from under her eyelashes, letting her exhaustion and fatigue show on her face. “I’m starving,” she said softly. “If you don’t want me to get sick, you should feed me better. I have low blood sugar. I feel sick and dizzy if I don’t get to eat properly.”

But there was no flicker of remorse on his face. Damn he didn't even flinch. “You’re alive,” he said curtly. “That’s the only thing I care about. A weakened captive is less of a hassle.”

Nice.

Refusing to give up, she bit her lip and dropped her gaze. “Okay.”

Silence.

She waited with bated breath, but with every passing second it was becoming increasingly obvious that this man was as cruel and unfeeling as he looked. Sigh. What now??

“You didn’t answer my question,” Eton said, laying his large hand gently on top of Kaia's head.

Kaia froze, not daring to look, not daring to breathe. There was something about that  that unsettled her within. She knew very little about this man, but one thing she knew for certain. He didn’t have a gentle bone in his body.

“I d-don’t know what you expect me to say,” she managed, fighting the wave of dizziness brought by fear. She stared down at her bare toes. “I know nothing about my father’s dealings with you. He tells me nothing. He didn’t know I went to meet you. I had no idea what I was getting into when I decided to go in his stead.”

The long fingers carded through her curls ever so gently. Kaia couldn’t breathe.

The fingers tightened before yanking her head up by her hair. Hard blue eyes bored into hers. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“You’re hurting me,” Kaia said, letting tears well up in her eyes. And she also managed to make her bottom lip tremble. “I’m telling you everything I know, I swear.”

The painful grip on her hair didn’t lessen one bit, but Eton's gaze flicked down to her wobbling lip. The look lasted a fraction of a second, but Kaia didn’t miss it.

Oh.

She dropped her gaze again as a new thought occurred to her. She truly hadn’t intended to go this route—a part of her couldn’t even believe she was seriously considering it—but…

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, damn it! And she refused to be a damsel in distress and timidly wait to be rescued. It was her own fault that she had acted recklessly and gotten herself in this predicament. Not to mention that her father was going to skin her alive if he had to pay some outrageous money to ransom her. Yes, she had screwed up, but it was still her chance to prove to her father that she could handle tricky situations by herself. If she could manipulate this powerful man, she would more than prove to her father that she wasn’t useless, that she was smart enough and resourceful enough, that she could be trusted.

But could she do it if a mere look from this man made her knees weak with fear? If a pseudo-gentle touch made her heart pound and her breath ragged?

Arriane lifted her gaze to the other man again. Her stomach tied in knots when her eyes locked with Roman’s. The Russian wasn’t unattractive. Far from it. He was ruggedly handsome, with his short, dark hair, straight nose, and his square jaw dusted with dark stubble. His name suited him: he reminded Arriane of the warriors of Ancient Rome. He was very fit, his shoulders wide and powerful under the black turtleneck he was wearing, his arms and chest thick with muscle. If the guy hadn’t been so tall, he would have looked beefy. As it was, he just looked like a perfect killing machine. There was a quiet, carefully restrained aggression in his body language, something lethal and dangerous.

Arriane moistened her lips with her tongue.

The painful grip in her hair tightened, yet Roman’s voice was very soft. “I want answers. Now.”

Arriane took in a deep breath, trying to shake off her nerves. Roman Volkov was just a man. All right, maybe not like any other man that she knew, but still. Every man, no matter how hardened and clever, was susceptible to a bit of manipulation and persuasion. She just need to find the right approach.

“I’m telling the truth,” Arriane said quietly, keeping her tone open and naive. “I got the email by mistake. I went to meet you without telling my dad because I wanted to prove to him that I was mature enough to be involved in the family business.”

Roman snorted derisively.

Swallowing the biting remark that came to mind, Arriane said, “You don’t take me seriously. Why do you think my father is any different?”

Bingo. He could see that Volkov was finally inclined to believe her.

The tight grip in her hair loosened, turning into a gentle caress again. Arriane wasn’t sure which was actually worse.

“So you’re here only because you’re a stupid, reckless child,” Roman said, his tone mild.

Inwardly, Arriane imagined punching him in the nose with great relish and in great detail. Outwardly, she caught her lip between her teeth and shrugged. “Could you tell me why you kidnapped me?” she asked, trying to ignore the fingers still buried in her hair.

“No,” Volkov said.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll be the prime suspect in my kidnapping?” Arriane said, cocking her head. “There’s the email. There are people who know I went to meet you.” Well, Jane had seen a photograph of Roman and could likely give his description to the police.

Volkov didn’t look worried in the least. “We had a very public meeting at a very public place, a meeting arranged through official channels.” His voice remained soft, his unnerving, empty eyes fixed on Arriane's curly hair as his fingers ran through it gently. “There are numerous witnesses who saw me leave well before you and get on the flight to Sochi, where I spent the week. The president of Russia himself can confirm my alibi.”

Arriane's eyebrows flew up. Who, exactly, was this man? How could such a relatively young man achieve such power?

Arriane suppressed a shiver, took a deep breath, and voice out. “So are you demanding a ransom from my father?”

Roman gave no response.

“What did my father do to anger you so much?”

No response.

Arriane gritted her teeth before remembering herself—remembering her plan. She couldn’t show her anger. She couldn’t throw temper tantrums. She had to be good. She had to somehow soften the guy up.

She had to seduce him if necessary...

Arriane felt her cheeks color a little. The task seemed daunting, even impossible. This man couldn’t have gotten to where he was by being susceptible to manipulation. He was dangerous. If he even suspected what was she up to…

Her stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't imagine what will happen to her if she got caught..

“At least tell your people to bring me food, please? I feel sick.” Arriane looked up at Roman and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’m so hungry.”

Roman’s gaze followed the movement of her tongue. If Arriane didn’t feel so shitty, she would have laughed. It looked like Neville, her first boyfriend, had told her the truth for once. The asshole had lied to her for months, hiding that he was married, and when the truth had gotten out—when his wife had turned up at Arriane's flat—Neville actually had the nerve to blame Arriane for steering him off the right path, claiming that no red-blooded man could look at her lips and resist thinking of sticking his dick between them. At the time, Arriane had felt so stupid, pathetic, and dirty, but maybe, just maybe, Neville had been right.

Arriane breathed carefully, painfully aware of Roman’s fingers in her hair, of those cold eyes scrutinizing her. It was impossible to tell what was on this guy’s mind. Although Arriane had caught Roman’s gaze lingering on her mouth, everything in him screamed to be careful with this man, that a head-on attempt at seduction and manipulation wouldn’t be well-received. She had to keep in mind that the guy, despite his impeccable English, was Russian.

That was why she had to tread carefully with this man. One wrong move would invite a disaster.

“Please,” Arriane said softly. “I’ll be completely cooperative. I’ll do anything you want.” she kept her voice free of any innuendo, making sure her expression was earnest. She couldn’t initiate anything—that would be blatantly obvious.

Her gut is telling her that Roman Volkov belonged to the category of men who got off on power and who liked to see submission, but not necessarily sexual submission. Arriane could fake submission. Because if she could play her cards right, she mightn’t even need to sleep with the guy. The thought of actually having sex with this man, having Roman’s hands on her body while those disconcerting eyes looked down at her, sent a shiver through her spine.

Against her will, her gaze was drawn down to the other man’s muscular thighs. She could see the outline of Roman’s cock beneath the fabric. Although it wasn’t hard, it looked massive, long and thick. Swallowing, Arriane's licked her dry lips, and felt a squirmy sensation in her belly. Fuck, a cock like that would completely wreck her—and a man like Roman Volkov was unlikely to be gentle. He would be rough, commanding, and caring only about his own pleasure. Arriane could practically see it: the Russian’s heavy body on top of her, crushing her as he moved between her thighs, using Arriane as a hole for his dick—

Roman released her hair and stepped away. His eyes were narrowed as he studied Arriane's face like a hawk.

Arriane held his gaze, hoping that she wasn’t blushing and her dirty thoughts weren’t written all over her face. Sometimes she hated her vivid imagination. She wasn’t sure why she had been thinking about that. In all likelihood, Roman wasn’t attracted to her in the least and she had nothing to fear. She had more pressing things to worry about than the guy’s cock—like getting some food into her empty stomach.

“Please,” Arriane said quietly.

Some emotion flickered across Roman’s face. He stared at Arriane some more, his expression inscrutable once again, before turning around and leaving.

Arriane sagged back, disappointment nearly crushing her. She’d failed. Again.

Then, she heard Roman’s cold voice, muffled by the door but clear enough:

"[Give the girl some decent food. She won’t be of use to me dead.]"

A slow, little smile curled Arriane's lips.

It might be a small win, but she felt her optimism returning.

She can do it. She'll not fail. She'll come out here, alive. She'll make sure of it...

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