Page 24 of Scorch

“Untie me, Viktor. I promise I won’t do anything stupid. You’re twice my size. There’s no way I could if I wanted to. I just want to feed myself and get my clothes back on.” Her voice lowers. “Please.”

Goddamn, I have no power to resist her.

I reach for her wrists. “Alright, but if you try to hurt yourself or me…”

“I won’t.”

I untie her.

She sits back on the bed and chooses the plate with the omelet, hash browns, and bacon. She eats with gusto, obviously starving after being drugged. I’ve heard it can have that effect on people.

We sit in silence while she eats until she nods her head to the tray. “Are you going to join me or what?”

“I’m good. I ate earlier.”

With a frown, she continues to chew before she swallows and nods. “So you're just going to stand there and watch me eat?”

I’d stand here just to watch her breathe, but I don’t want to freak her out. I reach for one of the croissants and bite into it, crumbs scattering everywhere.

“Yikes. My mama would kill me.” She looks down at the floor.

“Don’t worry, I have house cleaners. They’ll come by in a few hours.”

“Ah.” She presses her lips together and nods before she picks up her fork and takes another bite of egg. “Thank you for this. It’s delicious. Now, please. Now that you’ve got me fed, can you tell me what’s going on?”

I sit on the edge of the bed, eating a croissant as she continues to eat her breakfast. I pull out my phone.

“A recording of your mother’s conversation with Timur. Fortunately for us, she had video surveillance set up where she was, so she had this evidence.”

I tap my phone, and the screen pops up. Her mother, Zofia, sits primly in a chair in her living room. Her home is about thirty minutes from here.

The footage is grainy but clear. Timur shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his folded arms on his chest.

“Why did you call me?”

Something flickers in Lydia’s eyes. I can surmise what it is—the friendly demeanor is a bit off putting, incongruent with the rough tone of his voice. He’s laid it on thick for her, so it likely takes her by surprise.

“As you know,” Zofia begins, “we’ve had a change in our family since Vera married into the Romanovs’.”

She watches as Yudin stares implacably at her mother, his gaze stone cold, and she shifts uncomfortably.

“I’m not sure I understand. What does that have to do with me?” he finally asks, scowling.

Zofia clears her throat. “I have reservations about my daughter’s marriage to you that my husband did not have. Leadership and I have decided it best that Lydia marry into the Romanov family. Please accept my apologies?—”

“No.” I wish I could reach through the screen and ring Yudin’s arrogant neck.

“This marriage is in progress. I’ve already spent significant money on Lydia’s dress.” He scoffs. “It needed to be altered to accommodate her and was no small fee thanks to her size.”

I forgot about that part. The fucker. Lydia’s cheeks turn bright pink.

“Mr. Yudin,” she says kindly. “I wish I could give my daughter to you with confidence, but recent developments make the situation unwise.”

He stands. “I’ll have Lydia, Zofia. You will not take her away from me.”

Zofia gets on her feet as he turns to leave. “Please understand. This is a strategic decision that we must make—” He takes a step toward her, but two guards snap into position between them. He makes a fist.

“Watch your fucking back and stay out of my way,” he snarls before he leaves, slamming the door behind him so hard the windows rattle. Fucking spoiled prick.

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