On my phone screen, Grace is a little red moving dot on the map of the estate. I switch the screen to live view and watch as she runs through the vines, her blonde head popping up every so often to see where she is. I don’t think she realises how far my estate runs. There’s about five kilometres till you reach the road, plus her feet are bare, so they must be hurting, all the sticks and stones digging into her soft skin.

  I saddle up my favourite horse, a beautiful black stallion called Nero, and jump on. I follow the dot on the map that is Grace and make my way through the vines. Nero is used to us travelling through the vines and knows exactly where to put his hooves so he doesn’t trip. Grace takes a sharp left and starts heading away from the road—she has no idea how close to freedom she was. I’m getting nearer, but it looks like she’s stopped. Maybe she can hear the hooves of my horse and is trying to work out her next move. I slow Nero down and we move through the vines. I dismount only a couple of rows over from her. I creep through the vines and can see she’s hiding behind a large tree, panting, her head turning from left to right. She knows I’m close but doesn’t know exactly where.

  I move easily through the foliage until I tackle her. She kicks and screams, but this time I have anticipated that and her legs and arms are the first things I lock down, pinning them to the dirt. She is screaming obscenities, while my weight presses down on her.

  ‘Did you think it was going to be that easy?’ I whisper. She tries to head butt me, but misses. ‘I bet it must be nice to be clear headed again.’

  ‘Fuck you!’ she screams, trying to buck me off.

  ‘Keep moving like that and I might.’

  She stills. ‘You said you wouldn’t touch me.’ Her voice cracks.

  ‘And I won’t, unless you want me to.’

  A slight shiver courses through her. Interesting.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to touch you if you were the last man on earth. You disgust me.’

  I chuckle. ‘Yet I saw the way you were checking me out while I was swimming, the way your eyes scanned my body.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

  ‘Sweetheart, I could see it with my own eyes.’

  She bucks again, but I have her locked down tight.

  ‘Now, just for future reference, this whole estate is under twenty-four-hour security. Every inch of this place has cameras.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘So you know that you can try to escape again, but you will fail. I got an alert on my phone of movement, vision of you running through my vines. I even had your location.’

  ‘I would have escaped.’

  This makes me laugh again. ‘No, you wouldn’t. One, you were moving in the wrong direction to the road and two, I knew where you were the whole time, I just wanted to make you feel like you had a chance.’

  ‘Fuck off, I will escape, no place is one hundred per cent secure.’

  ‘True, but no one has escaped from my villa before, even though many have tried.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I was going to explain everything over a nice dinner, but now you’ve pissed me off by trying to escape. After everything Sergei and I have done for you.’

  ‘What, by kidnapping me?’

  ‘Semantics. I could have let you rot in the fucking cellar but I didn’t, we looked after you, made sure you didn’t choke and die on your own vomit while you purged your demons.’

  Grace relaxes a little. ‘I told you I was thankful.’

  ‘Yeah, by trying to escape.’

  ‘Any sane person would, when they’re being kept against their will.’

  ‘I’ll give you that. But still, I did something nice for you, does that not mean anything?’

  ‘No, not when you’re holding me captive.’

  I stay silent on this matter, because she is right, but I won’t let her know that. I get off her and stand up, holding out my hand for her.

  ‘Come, you must be famished after this adventure.’

  She lets out a deep sigh and turns over. The white T-shirt is covered in dirt and her hair has sticks in it. She takes my hand and tiny sparks sizzle between us, but we frown at each other. I wonder what the heck that could have been. While I’m distracted by the sensation, Grace flips me over and has me on the ground. Shit. She took my breath out with that move. I see her legs run away from me, and I jump up and head after her.

  It doesn’t take me long to grab her again, crash tackling her further up in the vines. This time we are chest to chest.

  ‘Would you stop escaping.’

  ‘Never,’ she spits back, her jade eyes glittering with determination.

  ‘I am never going to stop hunting you then.’

  Our breathing starts to become heavy, and my body is starting to appreciate the beautiful woman beneath me. Our eyes meet and neither one of us can turn away.

  ‘Fine, I’ll have dinner with you.’

  She surprises me with her answer, not that I let it show. ‘Good, now have you finishing escaping for the day?’

  She nods. ‘For today, yes.’

  ‘Well, I look forward to chasing you again next time.’

  Her teeth sink into her plump lower lip and I’m tempted to lean forward and taste it but I promised I wouldn’t touch her, and as much as I thought that promise would be easy to keep, at this very moment, feeling her softness, I’m not quite sure.

  6

  Grace

  I’m getting ready for dinner with Maxim. I can tell that I pushed his patience too far today, so I decided to give in and do as he’s requested. I see the way he looks at me, with the tiniest bit of interest, which I’m sure means if I can get him to fall in love with me, he will let me go. So that’s my plan: make him fall for me so I can escape. Men are simple creatures. I may not have been in the jewels for as long as Zoe, but I picked up a few tricks from them. And I’m going to use the tiniest bit of interest that I see behind those dark eyes to my advantage.

  When I arrived back at the villa, Maxim moved me to a room apparently next door to his. It used to be part of the master and mistress suite, with a private door that connects the two rooms, so the master of the house could entertain his mistress without his wife knowing. I thought this was interesting, and I wondered if Maxim has a wife, a family. My stomach does a little flip when I think about him having a wife. I don’t want to seduce a married man, but this is a matter of life and death, so I hope whoever is up there will forgive me.

  When I open the wardrobe, it is filled with clothes, which shocks me. How long does Maxim expect me to be staying here? I slip on a simple green wrap dress, pulling it tight around my okay-sized breasts, add a pair of gold heels and blow dry my hair. I put on the tiniest bit of the makeup I find in the ensuite. Deep breaths. You can do this, Grace. You need to do this.

  I leave the bedroom and head down the empty corridor, the walls filled with old paintings, antique vases on pillars in the corners. It all seems rather over the top for one person. I make my way down a grand staircase, praying I don’t trip and fall down them and break my neck. The villa is quiet, but I can smell something delicious, so I follow the scent and make my way to the dining room.

  ‘You made it.’

  Maxim stands up from the table, and I am breathless. He’s dressed in a navy suit with a red dress shirt underneath. His skin is a gorgeous colour in the candlelight. His inky black hair is slicked back, and he has shaved. His dark eyes are taking me in, admiring me.

  ‘You look beautiful.’

  He gives me a smile and my stomach flutters as if this is a date. What the fuck? This man is your captor, not some amazing blind date. But he does look delicious and you need to make him fall for you. And if he is already admiring me then I’m a step closer to getting out of this place.

  ‘Thank you, you look handsome yourself.’

  He appears a little taken aback by my compliment, but recovers quickly. ‘Please sit.’ He holds out my chair for me like a gentleman.

  The table could seat fourteen people, if not more. It’s a deep, rich, mahogany colour, with gold candelabras in the middle. Fine bone china and crystal glasses have been placed in front of our seats.

  ‘Green is your colour,’ he whispers in my ear, sending a shiver through my body. This man should not have an effect on me, it’s supposed to be the other way around. ‘Would you like some wine or champagne?’

  ‘Champagne, please.’ I need something to calm my nerves or maybe to give me confidence to put my plan in motion.

  He smiles, pouring me a glass. ‘You look nervous.’

  ‘Do I?’ Trying to seem indifferent, I take a sip of my drink.

  ‘Do I make you nervous?’ He takes a seat and fills his glass.

  ‘I’m having dinner with my kidnapper in a gorgeous villa, somewhere in Italy. I think most people might be nervous.’

  He shrugs and nods. Then we’re interrupted by a waiter bringing in a wooden board, which he places in front of us, along with a bowl of bread.

  ‘Bruschetta, crostini with Tuscan pate, mushroom and goat’s cheese toasts, to start with.’ Maxim explains

  I am really hungry and take a bit of everything to try.

  ‘This is amazing,’ I moan, taking another bite.

  Maxim grins at me as I enjoy my food. We stay silent for a long while, too wrapped up in the appetisers. I have to pull back and remind myself that this is not a date.

  The waiter returns and clears the table.

  ‘You wanted to talk,’ I say to start the conversation.

  ‘Of course, but you were enjoying the food too much for me to interrupt.’

  I feel my cheeks blush at my enthusiasm for the food. ‘I love Italian food.’

  ‘I could tell. I was jealous that simple food was able to make you moan like that.’

  I blush again. I need to stop acting like a lovesick teenager and pull myself together.

  ‘Why are you doing all this?’

  But we are interrupted by the waiter, who places a bowl of soup in front of each of us.

  ‘It’s ribollita, a traditional Tuscan soup.’ Maxim advises me.

  I nod, but before I take a spoonful, I say, ‘You didn’t answer me.’

  He finishes his mouthful of soup and places his spoon to the side, then steeples his fingers. ‘Are you asking me why am I treating a beautiful woman to a wonderful meal?’

  ‘I’m asking why my kidnapper is having dinner with his hostage.’

  Maxim glares at me. ‘I thought you deserved a nice night after the horrible week you’ve had detoxing. You’re probably starving as well—you lost some weight, not being able to keep your food down. You need to get your energy back.’

  ‘So that the merchandise isn’t damaged?’

  ‘No.’ He clenches his jaw.

  ‘But it would probably look better to give me away all fresh faced than as some strung-out drug addict, more money in that, right?’

  His fist comes down on the table, rattling his spoon. ‘The truth?’

  I nod, because that’s all I want.

  ‘Seeing you withdrawing from whatever drug you were on was a horrible experience, but one I am familiar with.’

  ‘You were an addict.’

  He shakes his head. ‘You seriously think I could be one?’ His tone is a little condescending.

  ‘I didn’t think a law intern at the International Court of Human Rights would be kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking, and become a drug addict.’

  This silences him, and I watch as he tries to get himself under control.

  ‘You were a law student?’

  ‘What, can’t a whore be smart as well as having a willing pussy?’

  Shock registers on his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it arrived. ‘I never said you were a whore.’

  ‘Never said I was one, but here I am, about to be sold again.’

  He resumes eating his soup. ‘My youngest sister, Alexandra, she was a drug addict.’

  Shit. My stomach sinks. I think I have just put my big old foot into it. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thank you. The story does not have a happy ending. I tried so many times to get her to detox, and she would, but then something or someone would happen and she would be right where she was again, until eventually she OD.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Maxim.’ I try to convey my sympathy.

  ‘There is no need for your apologies, you did not know her,’ he says tightly. Silence falls between us. The waiter comes in again, notices the tension between us and scurries away.

  ‘Well, thank you,’ I find myself saying, ‘Thank you for helping me.’

  He gives me a tight smile and raises his glass in the air. ‘So, you want to be a lawyer?’ he asks, while we wait for the next course. He pours me another glass of champagne. The bubbles are already going to my head.

  ‘I did, but not now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I no longer have faith in humanity.’

  He stays silent, choosing wisely to steer clear of that conversational minefield.

  ‘So what is it that you do?’ I ask.

  ‘I’m an assassin.’

  I burst out laughing, choking on my champagne, before I realise he isn’t joking. ‘You’re serious?’

  He nods.

  ‘Shit, I’m screwed, aren’t I?’

  The waiter enters the dining room at that moment. Bloody hell, he has the worst timing in the world. He places a beautiful meal of steak and vegetables before me and I just want to throw up. We can pretend tonight’s dinner is lovely, wonderful, that we are enjoying each other’s company, but it’s all bullshit, it’s all a facade, because the underlying issue is he kidnapped me for someone and will happily give me away to whoever that is when the time is right.

  ‘Excuse me, I need to powder my nose.’

  He nods and lets me go. I walk through the wooden doors and into the empty corridor, opening a couple of doors until I find the powder room. I look at myself in the mirror and all I see is a stupid illusion of everything being okay. I slump to the floor under a waterfall of tears, curling up into a ball, trying to stop myself from shaking.

  He’s an assassin. I am never going home.

  7

  Maxim

  Grace has been gone for a while, so I stop eating and go in search if her. She is easy to find; I can hear her sobbing from the hallway. I open the powder room door and there she is, shivering on the marble floor.

  ‘Please go away, Maxim. I don’t want to pretend anymore.’

  ‘Pretend?’

  ‘No matter what, I’m fucked. You can feel good about saving the fucked-up girl in your fucked-up life. The one decent thing to counterbalance all the shit you do, all the people you kill. To you, I’m a job, not a human, and when the time comes for me to be offloaded, you’ll do it.’

  She looks up at me, mascara running down her cheeks.

  ‘Yes.’ I am not going to lie.

  She nods, and it’s as if she’s given up, no fight left in her.

  ‘Can I ask you something? Can you kill me now? If you’re not giving me back to my family, can you take me out into the vines and shoot me?’

  She’s serious, I can see it on her face. She isn’t afraid to die anymore. She’s given up on life.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, that’s right, if I’m dead you won’t get paid.’ She cackles crazily. ‘Okay, then. I guess I’m just going to have to take my own life.’ And she pulls out a steak knife. I didn’t even see her take it off the table. I lunge for her but I’m not quick enough and she slices her wrist, luckily not badly. I grab the knife and throw it away, then pull out a handkerchief from my suit pocket and wrap it around the wound.

  ‘Why the fuck did you do that?’

  ‘I’m not going back, Maxim. Do you hear me? I would rather die than go back to Dmitri.’

  ‘What did he do to you?’

  She laughs manically again. ‘Everything. Every depraved thing you could think of, then times that by two. He did that to me and my sister.’

  I know Dmitri is a psycho, but Grace was a jewel, and they were revered in the Bratva—he wouldn’t hurt them. But her behaviour now says differently; maybe she’s telling the truth. I mean, who the fuck wigs out like that if they haven’t been traumatised? She’s scared, she’s shaking, she was going to kill herself—that seems an extreme reaction to being kidnapped.

  I pick her up and take her back to her room, where I lay her on her bed. She is sobbing uncontrollably, the hurt, the grief, the sadness coming off her in waves. Now I understand why she needed the drugs: she was blocking out what she went through and now, now the block is gone and everything is bubbling to the surface.

  I rake my hands thorough my hair. What have I got myself into?

  ‘Is she asleep?’ Sergei asks, walking into my office. I’m sitting, staring out over the estate, watching the stars on the horizon. I’ve just had an intense workout in the gym. I needed to clear my head, and a couple of rounds with the punching bag usually helps.

  ‘Yes, it took me a long time to get her to settle.’ Grace cried for hours as I held her, soothed her, protected her.

  ‘And the cut?’

  ‘Only surface, it’s wrapped up now.’ The look in her eyes when she pulled that knife out—she was done. If I hadn’t come when I did, I don’t know if she would be alive. ‘I think something fucked up happened to her.’

  ‘Maybe we should do some digging. I mean, I understand she’s a jewel, but if we’re sending that young girl back to a monster, I don’t feel right about it. She’s the same age as Anna was. She reminds me so much of her.’

  I can see the sadness creep over Sergei’s face from the loss of his daughter.

  ‘I remember hearing something about the jewels in the news,’ he says, ‘Didn’t something happen with Nikolai in the media not that long ago?’

 

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