Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
For a moment, I think I see something close to empathy move across Lev’s face. But when I blink, it’s gone, and I could kick myself for even thinking such a thing. This man doesn’t know empathy, and it would be wise for me to remember that.
“Can I at least put on some clothes?” I ask, looking down at my tank top and bed shorts.
Lev nods, and I turn to walk into my bedroom. But before I can even think it through, I sprint for the bedroom and slam the door closed, locking it behind me. My phone is on the bedside table. If I can get through to the police, I might be able to bring this nightmare to an end. But I only get as far as picking up the phone when the door crashes open, and Lev storms toward me. He grabs my phone and shoves it in his pocket.
“You asshole!”
“I’m disappointed in you, zayka. I thought you were smarter than that.”
I go to slap him, but he grabs my wrist and squeezes.
“You’ll want to control these urges to fight me if you want the next seven days to run smoothly.” His eyes flare. “Outside of the bedroom, at least.”
My cheeks flush, and I wince as I stare up at him. “You’re a monster.”
He lets me go. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life. You’re going to have to come up with something a little more creative than that if you want it to land where you intended it to hit.”
I flash him a filthy look as I rub my wrist. “Why doesn’t that surprise me.”
But Lev remains unaffected and all business. “Now that that is out of your system, get dressed.”
“Fine,” I snap, desperate for a moment of peace so I can compose myself. But Lev doesn’t budge. “Are you going to just stand there?”
“Looks that way.”
“A little privacy?”
“Why?” He lifts his eyebrow. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
A flush of anger rolls across my skin. “You really are an asshole.”
He takes a menacing step closer until he is towering over me. “And you should do well to remember that, Miss Masters.”
I look into his dark eyes and see nothing of the Lev I spent the night with, and it’s then I realize with absolute confidence that the man who gave me one of the most exciting nights of my life never existed in the first place. He was simply a monster wearing a disguise I was gullible enough to fall for.
Keeping my mouth shut because I’m too angry to talk, I slide on a pair of jeans, throw on a T-shirt, and pull on a jacket and shoes before following my kidnapper out of the apartment.
I break my silence as I lead him down the stairwell. “Where are we going?”
“I have a car waiting to take us somewhere secure.”
“Which, as usual, doesn’t tell me anything,” I mutter.
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and Lev walks me toward a black Escalade parked down the street, just in the shadows. I stop, suddenly very afraid. If I get in that car, I might never be seen again.
“Come on, Miss Masters.” Lev takes me by the elbow, but I shrink away from him. He doesn’t get to touch me—I don’t care how big and scary he is.
“Get your paws off me,” I seethe at him.
Which he ignores. “Things will go so much easier for you if you do as I tell you to do.”
I shrug free of his touch and take a hasty step away from him, which sends me straight into the rock-hard form of a man standing in the shadows.
He is a giant. Seven-foot-something with vibrant blue eyes and a vacant expression. He says nothing as he looks at me, and for the hundredth time tonight, I feel fear trickle down my spine. The giant opens the door to the Escalade and grunts for me to get in. Afraid of what might happen if I don’t, I slide in, and Lev climbs in behind me.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask him, while I watch the giant climb in the driver’s side and start the car.
When Lev doesn’t answer, I turn to look at him.
“I’ve agreed to your demands. You could at least tell me where you are taking me.”
He removes a bottle of water from the back of the chair in front of us and hands it to me. But I cross my arms defiantly.
“Take it,” he demands, and there is a sharpness to his voice that is quite terrifying. I look at him, wishing my eyeballs could shoot bullets. “I would think after losing your stomach, you would want it,” he adds.
He’s right. My mouth feels dry, and my stomach aches. Reluctantly, I accept it from him and take a cautious sip. But I’m so parched I gulp it down until the bottle is almost empty.