Chapter 53
1839words
I pick up my phone, then set it down again on my bed.
Come on. Just make the call!
It's a struggle knowing what you have to do while being unable to do it. After what happened with Asher, I returned to my bedroom with my spine strengthened by determination. But that all failed the second I pulled up Adriana's number in my phone. Seeing her name made what I had to do become real.
Frustrated by my inability to ask for help, I throw my phone down, holding my scalp in both hands. I should be better than this! I'd tell anyone else to fight for their life and escape, to not hesitate no matter what. Annoyed at myself, I head into my bathroom. Dad's brooch will make me feel better.
Opening the cupboard under the sink, I feel for where I placed it in the box of documents. My fingers discover nothing but air. Ice creeps over my heart. I yank out the box, digging through the contents with increasing fear.
No! Where is it?
'Looking for this?"
I shoot my eyes upward in panic. Layla stands in the bathroom doorway. In her fingers, held up like a fragile snowflake she's expecting to melt, is my brooch. Trying to control my emotions, I rise slowly, my voice neutral. 'How did you find that?"
'It's my job to keep this home tidy. There's no spot, no matter how easily ignored, that I don't check for dirt." She turns the brooch from side to side curiously. 'I never know what I'll find sometimes when I'm cleaning."
Does she know what it is? If she saw the photos Asher had arranged in the room when I first arrived, she might have seen it then. Even if she doesn't grasp the importance of the brooch, she can read between the lines from me hiding it under my sink and know it's something I was keeping secret. If she shows it to Asher, he'll know I slipped out of the house. He'll interrogate me ... find out Mila helped me. I don't want her to get in trouble because of me.
My mouth is drying out the longer I hold steady. 'What do you plan to do with my dirt?"
'Nothing." She tosses it to me. I catch it, my jaw dropping wide in shock. 'It's not my business to categorize your personal things."
Clutching the smooth oval, I cradle it against my chest. 'You won't tell Asher?"
Her eyes grow sympathetic. 'Devushka, you might think I tell him everything, but I know when to keep a secret. Some things belong between family and family alone."
Family.
She knows this is the rose from my father's funeral.
I start breathing faster. The fear about the brooch is gone—I'm roused by hope. I swallow uneasily, debating if I should ask what I'm about to.
'If someone told you he was dangerous … that they had to get away from him … Would you keep that to yourself, too?"
At first, she just watches me quietly. Then she stares pointedly at my neck. Walking forward too quickly for me to prevent it, she lifts my hair out of the way. 'Did he hurt you?"
'Only my heart," I whisper.
Her hand drops back to her side like I've burned her. 'Why? He adores you."
I can't swallow down my derisive laugh. 'He has a funny way of showing it. Layla … Asher sees me as a tool to win his war." My hand makes gentle circles on my stomach. 'That's not a battle we should be involved in."
'You plan to run."
'I have to," I say flatly.
Layla turns away, her attention going to my bed. My cell phone draws her eye. 'If getting away from the Bratva was simple, many would do it."
She sounds like Mom.
Nothing is ever settled when the Bratvas are involved, stupid girl!
'It doesn't matter if it's risky," I insist, circling around her. 'Layla, please, I need to try."
'Who were you going to call?" she asks curiously.
Grabbing my phone, I stare at the screen. 'My best friend told me to let her know if I ever needed anything. She has connections through her husband; he's an attorney. It's a long shot, but at this stage, I'm willing to try anything."
She pulls in a large burst of air through her nostrils. 'This will break Asher's heart."
Gritting my teeth, I fight back a tsunami of emotions. Sadness, fear, resentment, regret. Lifting my shirt, I display more of the marks he left on my body. Her mouth trembles at the sight. 'I'm not sure he has a heart at all."
'That's where you're wrong, devuskha. But if this is what you want, then …" Layla motions with a small nod of her head. That support, as minor as it is, is enough for me to press the dial icon. The phone rings just twice before it's picked up.
'Adriana," my voice cracks, 'I need your help."
I'm tucked inside the wine cellar in the mansion. It's set just off the kitchen near the large pantry, down a skinny passage that exits to a delivery door. That exit is always bolted shut, except when it's in use. I've lingered before as boxes were hauled inside. The temptation to try and slip outside was immense. When overseeing the deliveries, Danil stared hard at me once, wordlessly compelling me not to try anything stupid.
Though it's cooler than upstairs, the cellar isn't a dank place. Asher has spared no expense in creating an elegant-looking room with racks stretching floor-to-ceiling, packed with bottles of wine. There's another wall stuffed with clear bottles of vodka. Some have labels I can't read. I walk along, brushing the smooth glass with my fingers, counting the bottles out of curiosity. I give up after hitting three hundred and twenty.
Layla said to wait here. It's difficult to believe she's capable of delivering Adriana to me. I'm already shocked she's helping me, but how she'll pull this trick off has me reeling.
I peek at my phone. There's no service at this depth. I can't check to see where Adriana is, if she's close or if she's coming at all. What if this is a trap? Goose bumps rise along my forearms. Well ... if it is, it doesn't matter. Asher already has me trapped. What else can he do to me?
There's a crunching noise from the top of the cellar stairs. I jump up, leaning around the barrel I was sitting against. At first, I see nothing; then a pair of tan, ankle-high boots appear. A second later, Adriana is gaping at me.
'Camila!" she gasps, rushing toward me.
I meet her halfway in a powerful embrace. 'Adriana," I croak before the tears begin.
'Shh, shh, shh. It's okay!" Rubbing my back, she whispers soothing sounds in my ear. Gently, she holds me at arm's length, studying me with perceptive eyes.
She frowns lightly. 'You're pregnant."
My jaw drops open. All I told her on the phone was that I was in danger and needed her to help me out of it. 'How did you …"
'Your hands." She points, making me aware I've been clutching my palms over my belly this whole time. She really knows me better than anyone. 'Camila, what's really going on?"
Glancing at my toes, I take a minute to think of a way to explain. 'It's a long story."
'Well, get to it. I just spent half an hour being bounced around in the back of a van, then stuffed inside a big box of apples to see you. It's obvious you're elbow-deep in a real mess."
'That's putting it mildly," I say with a weak chuckle. Sitting on the barrel, I cross my ankles. 'The man who owns this mansion—his name is Asher Volkov. He bought my family's dance studio. He … also kidnapped me."
Her hands cover her mouth. 'Oh my God. How?"
'He cornered me with a group of men who had guns. They stuck me in a car, though I tried to fight back. It happened right outside Topher's a few weeks ago."
'Weeks," she whispers in disbelief. 'You mean this whole time you've been here? Camila! Why didn't you tell me sooner? We've been texting and everything!"
'I know, I know." Pushing my hair behind my ears, I let out a tired sigh. 'I thought I had everything under control." Adriana looks pointedly at my stomach. I cringe at what she's reminding me of. 'Okay, I was wrong. Really wrong. Asher is in charge of the Grachev Bratva," I explain, seeing her confusion growing by the second. Her distress isn't far behind. 'He made me believe I had to stay here with him. And Mom too, so we'd be safe."
'Your mother is here too?" She stares up at the ceiling in disbelief. 'Wait. Safe from what?"
'There's another man out there looking for me. His name is Yannick Grachev. Asher has been warring with him for years since he forced Yannick out of the Bratva, and my family is mixed up in it."
Adriana taps her fingers on her cheeks thoughtfully. Her forehead is a mess of wrinkles. 'You're really in the middle of something huge. Asher … he wants this baby?"
I press my belly and shiver. The anguish at hearing that question is impossible to quantify. 'Yes," I breathe out. That's why this is so hard. I don't tell her the last bit; she doesn't need to know my internal struggle about loving a murderer.
'You're screwed," she states bluntly. My heart sticks in my throat. Adriana suddenly smiles in that sly way of hers. 'That's what I would say if you weren't best friends with someone married to a lawyer who specializes in witness protection."
A relieved laugh explodes out of me. 'Do you think Jonah can help?"
'Of course he can!" Jumping up, Adriana grabs my hands, squeezing our knuckles together. That's when she notices the wedding ring. 'Camila, holy shit, you didn't?—"
'It's fake," I cut her off. Pulling my hands away, I clutch my ring like it weighs a ton. 'The marriage, I mean. The ring is definitely real. Asher is too loaded and too proud to buy anything but legit diamonds."
She rolls her eyes and makes a jerking-off motion. 'Cool. Love that for him. When we get away, you can sell it and buy yourself a brand-new life away from his criminal ass."
I force on a plastic smile because I don't want her to drill me for more details. It never crossed my mind to sell the ring. It's an obvious option, so why does it curdle my blood? Stop thinking about Asher and anything that connects you to him. None of it matters. None. But as Adriana babbles on about the ways she'll spirit me out of Asher's reach, I touch my stomach again.
Some things will always matter.
