Page 15 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

”Get it together, Quinn,” I mutter, running a hand through my tangled strawberry-blonde hair. “He’s yourkidnapperand the reason you’re in this entire mess.”

And yet, I think of the way his gaze seemed to undress me, how his deep voice sent shivers down my spine.

No. I refuse to think about him for one more second. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. After freshening up, I sit on the corner of my bed, wondering what the plan is now.

Would someone please bring me breakfast? Will he really leave me to languish here all day? I scan the room for a landline I can use to check if there’s an intercom or something, since I don’t have my cell phone. Finding nothing, I head for the door.

That's when I try my luck and find, to my surprise, that the door is unlocked from the outside. My heart skips a beat as I approach, testing the handle. It turns effortlessly in my hand.

”Well, well,” I whisper, a plan already forming. “Looks like Mr. High-and-Mighty made a mistake.”

Ithasto be a mistake, considering he used handcuffs on me the previous night… right?

I glance down at my silk pajamas, debating whether to change. But time is of the essence. Who knows when Mark might return?

”Screw it,” I decide. I'd rather escape in my PJs than spend another minute in this prison.

I crack open the door, peering into the hallway. It's clear. I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves.

”You've got this, Quinn,” I tell myself. “Just act natural and walk out like you own the place.”

With one last glance behind me, I step into the corridor and rush down the stairs. Freedom is so close I can taste it. All I have to do is make it to the front door without running into—

”Going somewhere?”

I freeze, my blood turning to ice as that familiar voice washes over me. Slowly, I turn to face my captor, my heart sinking as I meet Mark's amused gaze.

“Just stretching my legs,” I lie, plastering on a fake smile.

Mark's lips quirk up in a dangerous smirk. “Is that so? Well then, allow me to join you. I'd hate for you to get lost in the gardens.”

As he steps closer, I can smell his cologne—spicy and masculine. My traitorous body responds even as my mind screams in frustration. I've gone from the frying pan right into the fire.

So much for my great escape.

”Actually,” I hesitate. “Maybe I’m not that interested. I’m a bit tired after yesterday. I think I’ll just head back to my room.”

I try to step past him, but he shifts to his right, blocking my path. With his eyes laser-focused on mine, Mark gestures toward an open doorway, his smile unwavering. “Why don't we continue your morning in here? I was just about to have breakfast, and considering how tired you are, it might be better for you to eat.”

I hesitate, eyeing the exit longingly. My stomach chooses that moment to betray me with an audible growl.

”Come now,” Mark coaxes, his blue-gray eyes twinkling. “I promise I don't bite... unless you ask nicely.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the way his playful tone sends a shiver down my spine. “Has anyone ever told you that your charm needs work?”

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “Only you, Quinn. Only you.”

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and something buttery wafts from the dining room, making my mouth water. My growling stomach wages war with my pride.

”Fine,” I relent, stepping into the room. “But this doesn't mean anything.”

”Of course not,” Mark agrees, pulling out a chair for me.

I sit reluctantly, my eyes darting around the opulent space. Crystal chandeliers, antique furniture, priceless artwork—it's like I've stepped into a museum. Or a very rich man’s house. It smells of old money.

In this moment, I realize I never asked what Mark did for a living. Hell, I never even asked his last name. Though curious,I decide to bite my tongue, lest he mistakes my genuine curiosity for compliance.

”Hungry?” Mark asks, sliding a plate of golden crepes in front of me.

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