Page 24 of Hostage with Benefits

The question hung between us, weighted with more than just the immediate context. Did I want to leave? To go back to my shoebox apartment, my demanding clients, my solitary life? The answer should have been an immediateyes. The fact that it wasn't terrified me.

“I want the truth,” I said instead.

“When I return.” He checked his watch again. “I have to go.”

After he left, I couldn’t stop thinking. The shipment was being returned today. The entire reason for my kidnapping would be resolved. Which meant... what, exactly? That I'd be released? That I'd go back to my normal life like none of this had happened?

The thought sent a spike of panic through me that had no logical explanation. I should be relieved. I should be packing my things, eager to escape this bizarre captivity.

Instead, I went backto my original room, the one I'd been given and that was intended for me to be kept as a hostage, and sitting down on the the bed, staring at the door. Waiting, though I wasn't sure what for.

Funny how being released now was starting to feel like the worst possible outcome.

CHAPTER 6

I wokeup on Friday still technically a hostage despite the fact that I was pretty sure the shipment my father stole had been returned.

Mikhail had been gone all day and only came back late at night, long after I'd fallen into restless sleep in my original room.

I'd woken briefly when he checked on me. He stood in the doorway for a long moment before quietly closing the door without saying a word.

No explanation.

No “Hey, got the shipment back, you're free to go.” No “Actually, I've decided to keep you indefinitely because the sex is good and Galina needs someone to fatten up.”

Nothing.

So here I was, Friday morning, brewing coffee in the kitchen and wondering what my status actually was. Hostage?

Guest?

Live-in booty call with Stockholm syndrome?

“Good morning, Miss Petrova.” Galina bustled into the kitchen, eyebrows rising when she saw me operating the coffee maker. “You are early.”

“Couldn'tsleep.”

“Ah.” She nodded sagely. “Men. They make good sleep impossible.”

I snorted. “In this case, it was less the man and more the existential crisis.”

“Eggs-is-what?”

“Never mind.” I poured a cup of coffee, inhaling the steam. “Is Mikhail up yet?”

“Left already. Business.” She made the word sound like a personal affront. “Always business. I tell him, take day off, spend with pretty girl. He say no, must work.”

“Did he, um, mention anything about me? About what happens now?”

Galina paused in her breakfast preparations, giving me an assessing look. “Now? You stay, of course. Where else would you go?”

“Back to my apartment? My job? My life?”

She waved dismissively. “Psh. That not life.Thisis life.”

“Galina, you do understand I was kidnapped, right? That I'm here against my will?”

“Were kidnapped,” she tried to correct me. “Past tense. Now you are here because you want to be.”

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