Page 9 of Claim

“I need to get Anastasia back. I can’t do that if Ivan is keeping tabs on me. The best way to fall off of his radar is to die.” Ishrug, clasping my fingers on the desk. “I’ll stay in the safe house with Zoya until it’s safe to come out. You already have encrypted communication there, it’ll be a good base to work out of.”

His dark eyes narrow and his lips thin. “You know this is a bad idea?”

I nod. “It’s the only one I have.”

He sighs, and pulls open his computer again. “Fine, I’ll start getting a contact system set up and new identification papers.” He stops typing and looks up. “Are you going to tell your family?”

Silence hangs heavy in the room.

“No. Keeping secrets is what kept them alive. If any of them had known the truth about Zoya, she would be dead, and my littlest sister would be back with my father.” I lift the corner of my balaclava enough to down the bourbon as I pour it. “Any of them would be dead if they had known where she was. Ivan would have discarded them like an old newspaper once he gathered the information he needed.”

“I agree. Knowledge is power.” He resumes tapping on his keyboard.

He should know. I swear he lives on intel.

It’s the entire purpose of all of his clubs, his business endeavors, his relationship with me, and even Frankie Falcone.

Contacts.

Enzo always knows more about what and who than anyone else alive.

And I’m going to need every ounce of it.

CHAPTER 2

ANASTASIA

I can hearmovement and quiet talking echoing around me, but can’t see a damn thing with this stinky ass bag over my head.

“Hey, assholes! I can hear you!” The heat from my breath bounces back against my eyes.

If only they’d loosen the ties on my wrists, my fingers are going numb.

There’s a scuff of a foot, and maybe something like the scraping of a chair.

What the fuck?

“Come on! This sucks. I didn’t see the way here. I forgot to brush my teeth before they took me. I’m dying of boredom. Can anyone like, just pull the edge up a little?” I make sure to add some extra whine to my voice.

I can play the role of the petulant teenager.

The cover is ripped off my head, flinging my curly dark hair all over, including into my face.

Blowing and wiggling my nose doesn’t get it away, but at least I can breathe.

“Do you ever shut up?” A tired looking beefy guy holds the sack they used.

I remember him. He was one of the men at the car when they took me.

Was that yesterday? I have no idea.

“Only if you’re nice to me.” I roll my eyes at him. “Jerk.”

He purposefully kicks the leg of the chair that I’m in, sending a hard jolt through me.

“I can be nice to you, my dear.” Another voice sounds from behind me. This one is deeper, almost calming in its level tone.

“That must be your boss.” I glower at the man who’s walking away. “He’s gonna be ticked when he finds out you left me sweating in there for hours.”

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