Page 42 of For a Price

CHAPTER 15

Katerina

“DoI see what I think I see, or are my eyes deceiving me?” comes Ivanka’s haughty voice, each word bathed in her accent.

Roman and I have barely made it down the hall to the second floor landing.

“You see what I tell you you see, which is nothing,” Roman answers without stalling. He cuts a direct path down the hall, his gait smooth and powerful.

I’m at his side, scurrying to keep up. It’s difficult when one of his steps are two of mine. What’s even more difficult is avoiding the pointed glare Ivanka shoots in my direction as we pass her by.

She’s in front of an ajar door, where from the quick peek I give, other women are gathered. The same women from last night’s dinner.

The other pets.

Many wear the same slinky satin dresses and leather collars around their throats. I swallow hard remembering what it felt like to have the leather strained against my skin. I remember how the other men in the room had eyed me and known as soon as they reached the collar who I belonged to.

Recognition would dawn in their gazes. Respect given as they’d nod at Roman and I.

I’m not sure what else to call it, if not slightly startling. No one’s ever decided to respect me based off such a quick glance before. Usually, it’s the opposite; usually, people take one look at me and make a dismissive face, like I’m gum stuck on the bottom of their shoe.

We make it to the staircase, leaving Ivanka and the other pets behind.

“Come,” Roman says, scooping my hand up in his. “The car is waiting for us.”

Warmth envelops me at his touch. My hand tucked inside his. His coarse grip holding onto me like I’m something to be treasured.

A funny flutter attacks my stomach, though I don’t have time to wonder why.

We rush out the house’s double doors.

Some of the men I recognize from last night’s dinner wait for us. Burly and intimidating, they wear stoic looks on their faces. All business and nothing else.

It dawns on me as Roman tugs me down the front steps and the night’s cold air whips against my skin that these men arehismen.

The crew under his command.

One of them stands by the rear passenger door of a large, unmarked SUV. He pulls it open in time for us to slide into the backseat.

“Otvezi nas ko mne,” Roman commands. “Ubedites, chto nikto ne sledit za vami?*.”

“Da, Zver?*.”

I catch a final glimpse of the home where I’ve been held captive for the last forty-eight hours before we drive off into the night.

To where? I’m not even sure…

Roman is silent and preoccupied with his phone for the entire drive. An hour passes of us riding in silence, with nothing more than sounds from the road and city surroundings. I watch the buildings whiz by as we speed on the freeway, wondering where I’ll be taken next.

There’s no use asking. I’ll be told I don’t need to know.

Part of me wonders about Finch, JC, and Fozzil, and if they’ve even noticed I’m missing. If they even give a damn that I am. Rosita’s definitely noticed and probably trying to contact me. She’s probably so worried, thinking the worst. We try to never go more than a few days without some form of contact, whether that’s by text or phone.

“We’re here,” Roman says, interrupting my thoughts.

I blink out of my stupor and peer out the window at the skyscraper we’ve parked in front of. The air evaporates from my lungs and I turn my head to blink wide-eyed at Roman.

“You live in the Northam Towers?”

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