Page 23 of Sinful Promise

I hear the car shift into a higher gear and notice we’re moving faster. This is good. I’d rather keep moving and put as many kilometers as possible between me and my past.

I can’t believe I pulled it off, but I’m afraid to celebrate, as I don’t want to jinx myself. The day is young, and my life is filled with disappointments. Why wouldn’t this just be one more to add to the list of many?

My heart races as I twist my torso to look out the back window.

“Relax, we’re not being followed,” Alex says, reading my mind. He’s calm and constantly checking the mirrors. Clearly, he’s done this before.

“Did you know I was at the church?” I ask Roman as he’s tapping away on his phone.

“Not at all,” he murmurs without looking up. “Were you expecting someone?”

“No.”

There’s no way he knows the danger we’re in, nor the magnitude of what just happened. He must think I’m a runaway bride, and this is just a lark—a rich guy looking to fill a boring afternoon by saving a damsel in distress. If I’m to pull this off, I need to let him believe that’s my story.

“Who were you running away from back there?” he asks, looking at me with suspicion.

Ah, let the games begin.

“Someone I don’t like.”

“You liked him enough to want to marry him,” he states as he puts down his phone and turns to face me.

The accusation could not be further from the truth and makes me angry enough to scratch his eyes out, but I swallow my rage and try to think of a response. I’m tempted to tell him the truth, but I run the risk of him turning me over if Papa or Andrian offer a reward. Would Roman even believe me if I told him the truth? I prefer not to lie, but it’s a given in my world that everyone lies and is out for themselves. It’s a matter of survival.

I’ve never been in a situation like this, alone with two virile men, and I have no clue what to expect. Anything could happen. They could sell me into a prostitution ring, or worse.

“Why were you in the park?” I ask. “Where are you from?”

“Why were you there?” he counters.

I realize I have no leverage in the situation. I need them.

“I was supposed to marry someone.” I shrug and look out the window.

“I thought as much.” He nods as if he understands. “We were passing through,” he says, finally answering my question. “Now we’re returning home.”

That makes sense. They’re both Russian, and we have lots of Russian living in our country. I wonder why he picked Minsk, of all places, but I decide it’s better not to push my luck by asking too many questions.

I have a flashback to the church and hope Katsia will be okay. She knows not to trust anything my father and brothers say.

I shut my eyes and lean my head back against the seat, taking deep breaths. I’m still trying to relax when the car comes to a sudden stop. I open my eyes. We’re in front of a hotel.

Oh, fuck! Are these men going to rape me and murder me?

I have five seconds to decide my next move. I don’t know these men, but anything’s better than marrying Andrian. I know what he’s capable of.

Roman opens the door, and I get out.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I could be raped or killed, chopped up in trash bags, or found in a ditch somewhere if this all goes to shit. I’ll fight until I can’t breathe.

“We need to grab our stuff.” Roman’s voice is gruff and businesslike, and he seems preoccupied as he texts someone.

He slides his key card into the door. Alex follows.

Fuck.

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