Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
She checked the clock again. The first month, she had hated him, and every time he had come through that door, she had attempted to attack him. That anger was gone.
Next, she had felt the tears. She had wept for days. Then, it was like a light switch had gone off, and all her father’s warnings over the years had come back to her, and she realized the danger Dmitriy had placed himself in.
She was alive, and he had saved her.
Then, little by little, she had come to see what he did for her. He protected her and took care of her. He brought her food, or whatever she had asked for. In her spare time, she had learned to craft. Back at her apartment, he had taken some of her things and placed them in storage. In the beginning she didn’t realize he had done that. Her little sewing machine, overlocker, and some fabrics, as well as some of the crafting items she had managed to accumulate over the years—they were all there—and he had even set them up in the corner of the cabin for her to have something else to do. Whatever she wanted, he got her.
Slowly, against all odds, she was falling in love with her captor—or her savior—whichever she wanted to fantasize about.
Chapter Two
The cabin where he had placed Anastasia was in the middle of nowhere. It was deep into the woods, off the beaten track, and not able to be detected. He had paid for it in cash, under a fake name, and then he had made sure all those documents were gone.
No one knew where he lived. This was one of many locations he had. There were some safe houses with a lot of security. This one didn’t have quite so much, because it wasn’t as easily detected. However, he had placed sensors a mile from the property that would send him an alert. He had also placed cameras around, and he was able to access them by his cell phone.
It was amazing what could be done via cell phone now. He remembered a time they could only text or call, which was a miracle when that happened. They were also a lot smaller than back in the day.
The smells of dinner were intoxicating as he entered the main cabin. He closed and locked the door. Anastasia greeted him with a smile, asked if he was okay, then put a pot of food in the center of the small table.
Anastasia loved to cook, and it reminded him that he needed to stop by a bookstore and grab a brand-new cookbook for her.
“You’re late,” Anastasia said. She handed him a knife and fork, and then leaned over the table to serve him a large bowlful of spaghetti and meatballs.
He had come to realize that Anastasia’s favorite food was pasta of any kind, and she loved meatballs as well.
Dmitriy didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was nearing seven. This was a big improvement on what happened the first month he had brought her here. Every night, she would be ready to attack him. Sometimes she would have a knife or a fork and attempt to stab him. On one occasion the prongs had indeed entered his flesh, which had sucked. Thankfully, they had been clean and not soaked in any kind of poison. It was not the worst feeling in the world, however, Anastasia had felt incredibly guilty afterward. He refused to tell her it didn’t sting.
That was when food had started to be made for him. Dmitriy couldn’t remember a time he had a home-cooked meal. His own parents hadn’t exactly been loving or comforting.
“It has been a long day.”
She never broached the subject of his work.
“Did your parents ever talk to you about ... the Bratva?” he asked.
Anastasia looked up, and he saw the surprise in her eyes.
She shook her head. “Not really. They spoke about how Gnesin had made something out of nothing, and that one of his points was to remember where he came from.” She shrugged. “But then, he stopped arriving at parties, and there was a messenger or something. I don’t know. Rumors were he got paranoid and was afraid of dying. You know him, though, right? You’ve seen him?”
Dmitriy nodded. What he didn’t tell her was it had been a long time since he had—over six months.
“When did he stop coming to parties?” Dmitriy asked.
She blew out a breath. “At least four years ago, that had to be when it started, but I don’t know about everything in between. I left, remember?”
“I remember. You refused to marry.”
“The guy was a pig, and he was gross.”
“You didn’t want to be with the guy because he was fat?” Dmitriy asked.
“No, what? No. It had nothing to do with his weight. He was ... horrible. He would grab women’s asses, and just, he thought everyone owed him something, and he was not a very nice man. I’m not shallow.”