Page 21 of Forced Bratva Hostage

I'd lost my freedom to a man I barely knew, and I wanted it back. I wanted my life back, but that wouldn't happen if I remained trapped in this house, feeling useless.

I'd learned the hard way not to count on my dad for anything, and I wouldn't do that now. We both needed help getting out of this situation, and I had a feeling I'd only be disappointed again if I continued to wait for him.

The only way out of this was to get help from outside. And to do that, I had to get outside of this mansion—my prison.

It didn't matter whether my dad would show up with the money tomorrow morning; Afanasy might not let me go even if that happened. He just seemed like that type of man.

If he chose to keep me as his little plaything, who'd stop him? Absolutely no one. He was that powerful and influential. There'd be no saving me then.

2:30 was my only shot at escaping this place tonight.

Considering I was allowed to roam around the mansion, I used that as an opportunity to study the patterns and movements of the guards.

I’d observed their patrol routes and schedule—their rotations, patterns, and timing. I meticulously noted all the lapses in their surveillance, which revealed a potential weakness in their security.

Between the early hours of 2:30 and 3:00 in the morning, the guards' vigilance waned significantly. I noticed that during that period, the East Wing guard would usually leave his post, stepping outside for a smoke break.

The West Wing guard would take about five to ten minutes to grab a snack from the kitchen. During this hour, the security camera on the north side of the house would always experience a momentary routine system check, causing a five-minute blind spot—my window.

The patrol intervals increased from 15 minutes to 30 minutes during this hour, giving me more than enough time to make my move.

As soon as it clocked 2:30 on the dot, I hopped off the bed, ready to sneak out. Ideally, using the window would be better, but the guards outside were more vigilant. They’d spot me in a heartbeat. Not to mention, my room—my cell—was way too high. Climbing down would be suicide.

I had a better plan—the secret door behind the tapestry in a mini library. I stumbled across it a few days ago while wandering the house. Amongst the books and documents in the mini library was a blueprint of the mansion.

I would spend hours there, studying the map and the complex layout. From what I learned, the hidden door led to a narrow stairwell through which I would navigate until I made it outside the building.

Then, the next phase would be getting past Afanasy's hounds, and that would be tricky, considering how much I feared pit bulls. Once I got through them, I'd sprint to the section of the garden walls with loose stones, which would provide me with a possible climbing point.

And then…freedom.

But first, I needed the courage to leave the room. The operation seemed easy in my head, but since when did easy mean simple?

“You got this, Wren. You got this,” I whispered, shutting my eyes as I took slow breaths.

I bolted toward the door and grabbed the handle, quietly pushing it open. My body stiffened at its faint creaks.

Once out of the room, I was literally blinded instantly—I couldn't see a damn thing in this absolute darkness. However, I was already familiar with this hallway by now. I could feel my way to the staircase.

And I did, fingers tracing the fine walls as I walked through the corridor, my footsteps soundless against the floor.

Soon, I felt the sharp edge of the wall beneath my palm, a signal that I'd made it to the staircase. I groped for a while before my fingers touched the cold handrail, its chills seeping through my skin.

I gripped the handrail for support, cautiously striding toward the head of the steps. It was a lot harder to move in the dark than I'd thought—having no idea what was around me was both frustrating and terrifying. But I was willing to see it through.

Going down the stairs should be a piece of cake. I ascended and descended those steps every day, and I knew the exact number of steps there were: thirteen.

All I had to do was count.

I put a foot down.

One.

Then the next.

Two.

And another.

---