Page 41 of Deadly Vows

He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. I had to stop myself from flinching, from recoiling in disgust. His scent - sweat and cigarettes - filled my nose, making it hard to breathe. He reached around and cut the rope off my wrists and then placed the knife on the sofa.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered into my hair. “You’ll never have to worry about Aleksandr again. I’ll take care of you and the baby. We’ll be happy here.”

He grabbed my face between his hands before I could process what was happening. His mouth crashed against mine with a force that stole the breath from my lungs. His kiss was rough, almost desperate, his lips bruising mine as he poured all his twisted emotions into the act - his obsession, his possessiveness, his need to control me.

My stomach turned, bile rising in my throat as I forced myself to remain still. I had to play along, had to make him believe I wanted this, even though I wanted to grab the knife and plunge it into his chest.

Danny smiled, his thumb brushing over my bruised lips before he finally stepped back, his eyes gleaming triumphantly. He truly believed I was his now, that we were some twisted version of a happy couple.

“We’re going to be so happy here, baby,” he said, his voice soft and dreamy. “Just the three of us. No one’s going to take you away from me. Not Aleksandr. Not anyone.”

I forced a smile, my skin crawling with every second that passed. “Yes, Danny. We’re going to be happy.”

But inside, I was screaming.

Chapter 24

Talia

When I opened my eyes, I first felt cold metal biting into my wrist. The handcuff was still there, wrapped tightly around the bedpost, reminding me where I was. The room was dim, barely lit by the soft morning light. I blinked, slowly adjusting to my surroundings. I was trapped by the sterile walls, faint smell of cigarettes and gun oil that clung to everything, and the man lying next to me.

Danny.

My stomach turned at the thought of him being this close. He had kept his distance last night, sleeping beside me but not touching, like we were in a fragile truce. But it wasn’t kindnessor respect that held him back. It was the baby. He wouldn’t dare hurt the child growing inside me, the one he thought was his.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, and shifted slightly. The handcuff clinked against the metal of the bedpost, a tiny sound that grated on my nervous system. I couldn’t move far or get up even if I wanted to. Not without waking him.

I turned my head toward Danny, watching him as he slept. His face was peaceful now, softer in sleep than when he was awake and unpredictable. His arm lay across his chest, muscles slack, his lips slightly parted. He looked almost normal. But I knew better. I knew the danger lurking beneath that calm exterior.

Last night, when he locked me to the bed, he told me it was for my own good. That he was protecting me from myself and from making any stupid decisions. I wonder if he believed that or if it was just another twisted justification. But what scared me more was the part of him that did believe it. The part of him that saw this as love.

He didn’t understand love. Not real love. Not like what I have with Aleksandr.

The thought of Aleksandr sent a sharp pain through my heart, a longing so deep it made my chest ache. I could see him in my mind, how his face lit up whenever he saw me, and how his eyes softened when he looked at the children. I could almost feel his arms around me, strong and safe, holding me tight when the world became too much. It felt like a lifetime ago, like a dream I had once lived but could no longer reach. And now here I was, in another nightmare, with no idea how to get back to him.

Would I ever get back to him?

Danny stirred beside me, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, there was confusion in his eyes, like he didn’t quite remember where he was or what was happening. Then his gaze found mine, and his face lit up with a smile as if this was just another morning between us.

“Morning,” he said softly, his voice thick with sleep. He stretched, his body shifting closer, his hand brushing against the sheets between us. “Sleep okay?”

I nodded, forcing myself to return his smile, though my stomach twisted with revulsion. “Yes,” I lied. I hadn’t slept well at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Aleksandr. I saw the life that had been ripped from me. And I saw the future I still longed for, where I was with him, raising the children, safe and far from all this.

Danny reached over and uncuffed me, the click of the metal releasing making my pulse jump. I considered running, just bolting for the door, hoping to make it out before he stopped me. But where would I go? Even if I did manage to escape, he would find me. He always finds me.

Once I was free from the handcuff, Danny leaned in and kissed me, his lips soft but insistent, like we were an ordinary couple. I wanted to pull away, but I stayed still, let him kiss me, and let him believe what he wanted to believe. That was my survival for now, playing the part and pretending.

When he pulled back, he smiled again as if we’d just shared something intimate, something real. “You should make breakfast,” he said, his tone casual. He moved away from the bed and sat down at the small table in the corner of the room, methodically laying out his gun to clean it.

The sight of the weapon made my skin crawl. I wondered if he did it as a show of power, to remind me how much control he had over me. Or maybe he just liked the feeling of it and knowing he could take a life in an instant.Mylife.

“Okay,” I muttered, sliding out of bed and heading toward the kitchen. I moved slowly, my body stiff, and I could feel bruises forming from where the metal had pressed into my skin. I rubbed my wrist absentmindedly, trying to soothe the ache, but it was more than physical pain. The soreness was a reminder of my captivity. This is the second time someone tried to take me away from Aleksandr.

At that moment, I made a promise to myself and my baby. When I saw an opportunity to fight and try to escape, I was taking it. No matter what, I’ll fight until I take my last breath.

I grabbed a pan, focusing on the simple task of making breakfast. Eggs, toast, something quick to keep Danny calm. But my mind was elsewhere, already spinning with plans and strategies. I needed to contact Sandy. I had to tell her I was alive but couldn’t make it obvious.

As I cracked the eggs into the pan, I spoke, keeping my tone light and conversational. “Sandy’s probably worried about me,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to gauge his reaction.