Page 14 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

I can't help but stare at her defiant expression for a moment longer before I force myself to back away. She rubs her throat, still staring me down. I watch as her fingers glide down her collarbone toward her generous cleavage, and a pool of desire forms in my bones.

If I hadn’t backed away just then, god knows what I would have done next.

Perhaps follow through with that kiss I threatened?

What the hell is wrong with me? My heart's pounding in my chest, and I can feel the heat of her body lingering on my skin. I've never felt like this around any other woman, so why does Pippa affect me so much?

She shouldn’t. She can’t. She’s my captive. I need to keep her around, but I also need some space from her. Maybe we both do.

"Don’t try any new tricks," I order, trying to regain some control over the situation. "I'll have someone bring you food and water. I’m changing the code to your door as punishment for all those stunts you pulled—for trying to run off and attack me. I’m going to make sure your food is delivered and no staff is to stay in here with you. From now on, you will be left alone, to think about what you did."

"Great," she says sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest. "Room service in my very own prison cell with solitary confinement. How thoughtful."

This. This is what pulls me to her. She’s so quiet, so delicate in many ways, and then, when she’s annoyed, she can turn into this firecracker. That same urge, to shut her up with my lips against hers overcomes me again. The sooner I leave her room, the better. "Just remember that if you misbehave, I can bring a lot more trouble to your door than you expect. I want you on your best behavior for the next week, and then we can talk about certain privileges.”

Her eyes widen slightly at that, but she doesn't say anything else. Instead, she watches me warily as I turn and walk towards the door.

As my hand closes around the doorknob, I pause for a moment, knowing that this moment marks a turning point. There's no going back from here—from this point onward, I’d be lying to myself if I say I’m not completely and utterly infatuated with Pippa Anderson.

Chapter 6 - Pippa

I lie in bed, angry with myself, and the world around me. Lev went through with his threat. The first day, when my food and water were delivered without a word, I thought he was just flexing his muscles. But then, two, three, four, five days passed by. Today marked the sixth. My room is a mess, and I’m losing all will to clean up after myself. There’s no TV, no books, no phone. The isolation is killing me, my mind playing tricks with itself.

Sometimes, a strange darkness overcomes me, showing me how doomed I am. My clients might have replaced me. If anyone noticed me missing, I wonder if they called the police. Or maybe I never mattered to them. My classes must be going on. I doubt any of my classmates would make note of my absence, and the professor’s, even if they tried, have no one on my emergency contact.

For the first time in my life, I understand the true depth of my loneliness.

Given how Lev Zolotov has put me in this position, I should hate him, curse him with every power I have. And yet, when the night comes around and I lie in bed, all I observe is how my body tenses with frustration from the memory of Lev's near-kiss still lingering like a ghost on my lips. My mind is playing a game of tug of war with itself. On one hand, it races with rage towards him, but on the other, it wishes he had carried out that threat.

He's everything I thought I despised—dangerous, arrogant, and clearly a criminal. Yet, why does my skin itch for his touch?

A memory rushes to mind. I was sixteen, in high school. Jad Davis and I were working on a school project together. He held my hand and told me he wanted to take me to the school dance that winter. I was over the moon. At last, I could have had a chance at my first love.

And then, three days before, after I’d already gotten my dress all sorted and spent hours debating which shoes to wear, I heard he was taking Emma Brown. Thinner, prettier, more popular Emma Brown.

I still remember the sting. I cried all night, and the next day, when I confronted him under the bleachers where he usually sat after practice, he could barely look me in the eye. “You’re amazing, Pippa,” he’d told me. “But the others on the football team are all going with cheerleaders.”

I never went to that school dance, and I also learnt a valuable lesson. Most people will deny themselves what they truly want because they fear what other people might think.

I wasn’t the obvious choice for a jock like Jad Davis. I was much more than the coveted size extra-small. I wasn’t blonde, I didn’t do my nails every weekend, and I loved to read. Because of all those things, Jad and I never had our chance, even though he and I both knew that we could never talk to another soul the way we spoke to each other. Kindred spirit is what he called me once. We belonged to each other in the confines of isolation, but Jad could never muster up the courage to take it public.

Maybe my skin itches now for Lev Zolotov because he’s everything Jad Davis is not and everything I secretly admire; a born leader who lets the world know he’s going to do what he wants, and they can either get on board with it or fuck off. He’s not confused by how I make him feel. He’s made his sentiments absolutely clear. He doesn’t hide in the shadows, cower in the face of opinion, or fear taking action.

He takes what he wants, guns blazing.

Yet, at the same time, he’s contradictorily sweet. I think about how he tried to comfort me when I pretended to cry and how amused he looks when I’m mad.

He’s always in control. Short-tempered, fiery, yet in control. He’s as alpha as it gets and so infuriatingly attractive that it makes me question my own sanity.

This whole thing is confusing. How can I revel in the thought of staying, when my whole life depends on getting out of here?

But, I’ve worked too hard to get where I am, and my future takes precedence. I don’t believe Lev is actually unnecessarily cruel. He only acted out of impulse in kidnapping me and hasn’t yet thought out his grand plan. He must know he can’t keep me here forever. I have a life to get back to. I have classes, exams, and a scholarship to uphold. I’m certain when this week is up, he will come revisit, to discuss those ‘privileges.’ That could be my last chance at an escape.

No matter how curious I am to explore where this thing might go, I can’t throw away everything I’ve worked for. This insane situation needs to change, and I need to shut down the crazy part of my brain telling me to stop fighting for an escape, and just make a run for it.

I toss and turn for hours, sleep evading me as my mind works overtime, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this mess. It isn't until the first rays of sunlight stream through the window that I finally drift off, exhaustion winning over my racing thoughts.

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