Page 51 of The Arrangement

Kicking the trunk is useless. I've seen enough movies to know the trick, but it's not working. It's like this car's built to keep nightmares inside. So, I stop, conserve my energy. I've got to think, got to be smart about this. There has to be another way out, another way to get back to Maksim and Adelina. And I'm going to find it, no matter what.

The music's blasting so loud outside this metal coffin, it's a wonder I can keep a single thought straight in my head. But I've got to focus, got to dig deep into my memory of the self-defense class I’d taken when I’d first moved out on my own. The instructor told us car trunks have an emergency release button inside.

Fumbling around in the darkness, my hands search desperately for the latch I'm sure is supposed to be here. But my hands come up empty, no latch, no lever, nothing. Maybe the car's too old, or maybe not every car has one. Great, just my luck.

Next, I move to the back of the seats, thinking maybe there's a chance they fold down or there's some kind of release mechanism. But again, nothing. I'm trapped in a metal coffin. The realization sinks in—I'm stuck here until they decide to let me out, wherever and whenever that's going to be.

The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me, but I clamp down on it. I can't afford to lose it. Maksim has to notice I'm gone soon. He's smart, observant. The hope that he'll realize I'm missing, that he'll come for me, is the only thing keeping the despair at bay.

I curl into the fetal position, trying to conserve my energy, to prepare for whatever comes next. I have to be ready.

Time stretches into an endless void, each second an eternity in the suffocating darkness of the trunk. The car's movements become a monotonous rhythm, lulling me into a state of hyper-awareness where every sound, every shift feels amplified.

I try to piece together our route from the turns and stops, but without sight, it's like trying to solve a puzzle in the dark. Frustration gnaws at me, but I push it down, forcing myself to stay focused, stay sharp.

The car slows, the music cuts off, and the world outside falls silent. My heart leaps into my throat. This is it. We're stopping. Panic and anticipation twist inside me, battling for dominance. I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to brace myself for what's to come.

The engine shuts off, and for a moment, there's complete silence. Then the sound of car doors opening and closing pierces the quiet, followed by muffled voices. I strain to listen, to catch any clue or hint of where we might be, but the words are indistinct, the conversation frustratingly out of reach.

Suddenly, light floods the trunk as the lid is thrown open, blinding me after hours in darkness. Blinking against the brightness, I see figures looming over me, their faces obscured. I'm momentarily frozen, the shock of the transition from dark to light disorienting me. But then survival instinct kicks in. This might be my only chance.

Hands reach in to drag me out and I kick, aiming for any part of them I can reach.

"Not without a fight," I hiss through gritted teeth. There's a moment of surprise from my captors, a hesitation I use to my advantage, twisting and turning in an attempt to break free.

As they grapple to regain control, their hands rough and insistent, I feel the cold bite of something binding my wrists. Panic surges anew, lending me a burst of desperate strength. I twist, fighting against their hold with every ounce of my being.

In the chaos, my fingers find purchase on something unexpected—the edge of a mask. With a sharp tug, the mask peels away, and the face beneath is revealed in a moment of startling clarity.

Nicky. My heart stops. Nicky, of all people. His eyes widen in shock, mirroring my own, before a veil of resignation falls over his expression. Before I can process the betrayal, a cloth is thrown over my eyes, plunging me back into darkness, the reality of his involvement a bitter pill I have no time to swallow.

They work quickly now, their movements efficient, as if eager to rectify their momentary lapse. I'm hoisted once again, the world tilting around me as they toss me back into the trunk. This time, there's no fight left in me; bound and blindfolded, the feeling of helplessness is overwhelming.

Chapter 27

Maksim

Adelina scrunches up her face, pushing the tiny espresso cup away with a dramatic shudder. "Yuck!" she exclaims, her expression one of utter betrayal.

I can't help but chuckle, having anticipated this reaction. "What? You don't like it?" I tease, already knowing the answer.

"It's gross!" she complains, wiping her tongue with the back of her hand as if she could erase the taste.

Irina, standing a safe distance away, leans against the kitchen counter with a smirk. "Maksim, you're playing with fire. Giving a child your rocket fuel could have unpredictable results."

I shrug, still amused by Adelina's exaggerated disgust. "It’s just a taste. Not to mention, it's a rite of passage," I argue lightly. "Besides, after this, I doubt she'll want coffee again for at least another ten years. All part of the master plan."

Adelina, now recovered from her taste test, looks up at me with big eyes. "Can I have juice instead?"

"Of course, Princess," I say, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Irina, would you?"

Irina nods, already fetching a juice box from the fridge. "This should cleanse the palate," she says, handing it to Adelina, who takes it with both hands like a treasure.

"See? All is not lost. You've survived your first coffee," I tell Adelina, who's now sipping her juice with a satisfied air.

"Yeah, but no more," she declares, setting her terms.

"Deal," I agree, laughing. "No more coffee."

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