Page 81 of Dangerous Beginnings

I pause, casting a cold glance over my shoulder. “And why not?” I ask, my tone dripping with disdain.

His eyes widened with desperation. “Because I have information,” he pleads. “Information that could be valuable to you.”

I consider his words for a moment, weighing the potential risks and rewards. I check my watch—I still have some time leftuntil Isabella gets home. With a nod to my enforcer, he steps forward, unlocking the cage and dragging him out onto the grimy floor. I watch impassively as my enforcer restrains him; his struggles are futile against the iron grip of my men.

“What information do you have?” I demand, my voice icy and controlled. His gaze darts around the room, his expression conflicted.

“I know who’s behind the recent attacks on your supplies,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. A flicker of interest sparks within me at his words.

“And who might that be?” I press, my patience wearing thin. He hesitates for a moment, weighing his options.

But the fear in his eyes betrays his resolve, and he finally relents, “It’s Mikhail Petrov,” he confesses, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breaths.

A sense of satisfaction washes over me as I absorb his revelation.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” I state coolly, nodding to my enforcer. With the nod, my men drag him back to the cage and load it into a truck. His eerie screams fill my ears until I’m out of the building.

Time to go home.

Isabella

In the heart of Moscow, the city pulses with a unique energy, blending history with modernity in a mesmerizing dance. I navigate the bustling streets, my senses alive with the sights and sounds of this vibrant metropolis.

As I drive through the iconic landmarks—the majestic Red Square, the colorful domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral, and the grandeur of the Kremlin—I feel a profound sense of awe. Each corner I turn reveals a new facet of the city’s rich tapestry, a testament to its storied past and dynamic present.

The rhythm of the city envelops me, drawing me deeper into its embrace with each passing moment.

Finding a parking spot has been a challenge and since it’s my first time here I’m okay with staying in the luxurious car.

As dusk falls, Moscow transforms into a dazzling spectacle of lights, its streets alive with the buzz of activity. When I finally spot a parking spot, I park the car and stare at the lights that light up the city. Suddenly my phone lights up.

Aslanov:

Dinner’s in an hour.

I stare at the screen, not sure if I want to go back yet.

I’m not that hungry yet and I’m still kind of busy.

It doesn’t take long before my phone lights up again.

It wasn’t a question, dinner’s in an hour. Get here, it’s getting dark outside.

I roll my eyes at his dominant response

Can’t I decide that for myself?

For this month, you’remine, and I’m not comfortable with you alone in an unfamiliar city when the sun sets.

I stare at the text. As the message from him lingers on my screen, I can’t shake off the feeling of frustration mixed with a tinge of apprehension. The insistence in his tone is suffocating, reminding me of the boundaries I have inadvertently agreed to when I signed up for this arrangement. He’s concerned.

Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s already quite late. The thought of defying his order crosses my mind, a small act of rebellion in a situation where my autonomy feels increasinglycompromised. Yet, the unfamiliarity of the city streets at night weighs heavily on my mind. And the punishments of disobedience.

I’m on my way.

I put my phone back into my pocket and took one last look at the skyline of lights. The city lights capture my vision one more time before heading around the corner, back toward the landscape behind them. Back to him.

Aslanov

---