Page 19 of Forced Marriage Vows

“He’s here, Papa,” I whisper right before I hang up the phone, rushing to my feet.

Mikhail stands in my doorway, tall and imposing, his face calm, detached—too calm for what’s happening. His hand is gripping the back of Coda’s neck, holding a gun to his head. Coda’s eyes are wide, panicked, but he doesn’t move.

Mikhail steps forward into the apartment, dragging Coda with him. He has an unimpressed frown on his face.

“Anastasia,” he says, his voice light. He might as well have been talking about the weather. But the way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine.

“Hi,” I say back, trying to put on the same unaffected air. “I wasn’t expecting a visit, Mr. Morozova.”

He smiles. It doesn’t do anything to thaw that icy coldness that he always exudes.

“Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“Leah, my best friend,” I answer without skipping a beat.

Mikhail smirks. “Life would be so much easier for both of us if you didn’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

I decide to forgo all pretense. “What do you want from me? What have you done to my father?” I ask, my fingers clenching around my phone.

“Those are important questions for sure. But why should I answer your questions, when you’ve refused to answer mine?”

“Are you going to hurt me?” I ask.

His eyes soften, and the sight surprises me. It makes him look more human. He looks like he couldn’t contemplate ever hurting me. Then the expression clears and he’s back to a cold, imposing statue.

“Depends on if you’re good, sweetheart.”

I suck in a sharp breath at that.

“Ana…” Coda starts to speak. But he doesn’t to finish his sentence before Mikhail shifts his grip, knocking him out with a swift blow to the head.

My bodyguard crumples to the ground, unconscious. Okay, now I’m really scared. I freeze, backing up until I hit the wall.

“Stay the hell away from me!” I shout when Mikhail steps forward.

He doesn’t listen, closing the space between us in a few long strides. He grabs my arm, his grip firm but not painful, encroaching on my space as he does so. His presence fills the room, suffocating in its intensity. I make sure to look him in the eye, trying to show him I’m not cowed.

“You have no idea how much I wish this was happening some other way, Anastasia. But we’re out of time and I have no way of knowing if your father has sent other men to retrieve you. So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to follow me out of this apartment, and you’re not going to make a sound. Alright?”

“Go to hell,” I spit.

He makes a low, frustrated noise before his eyes briefly fall shut. “I’m not going to hurt you, Anastasia,” he grits out. “I would never hurt you.”

His eyes darken and for a second something shifts between us. The air thickens, and I can’t tell if it’s fear or something else entirely that makes my heart race.

“I don’t trust you.”

“That’s fine. But whether you like it or not,” he murmurs, his voice dropping, “you’re coming with me.”

I try to fight it, to yank my arm back, but he’s stronger than me.

“Mikhail—”

But he’s already dragging me through the door and into the dark hallway. My mind is a blur of panic and frustration as he forces me into the passenger seat of the BMW parked in front of my apartment. He shuts the door behind me, and before I can even begin to open it, he’s on the other side, sliding into the driver’s seat.

He starts the car and then we’re off. I think about Coda unconscious on the floor of my apartment. I hope he’s okay.

We’ve been driving for about five minutes before I finally turn to look at him.

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