Page 75 of Arranged with Twins
“Perhaps.” Adrian stands and moves toward the door. “In the meantime, you’ll have plenty of time to think about your parents’ choices. I’ll be back soon to record a more obliging message. If you force the issue, I’ll have to use pain to induce your cooperation.”
The lock clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with two armed guards, who watch me with cold eyes. I test the zip ties again, feeling for any weakness or slack that might allow me to slip free. The plastic bites deeper into my wrists, but I keep working at them anyway.
I need to escape before Adrian decides to start implementing those methods Mother suggested for ensuring my compliance. I need to protect my babies and be the mother they deserve, even if my parents were willing to sacrifice me for money and social standing.
The grief threatens to overwhelm me as I think about Mother actively participating in handing me over to a man who views torture as strategy. Father’s desperation made him complicit in my kidnapping.
Maybe he didn’t actively know what Mother had planned, but after years of living with them and observing their dynamic, I’m sure he wouldn’t have stopped her. It hurts that neitherconsidered the cost to me. I briefly wonder if they’d known about the babies if that would have made any difference. Probably not, at least to Mother. Her lifestyle and reputation mean more to her than anything, including me and two helpless babies inside my womb.
I push away the emotions and focus on survival. There will be time to process their betrayal later, assuming I live long enough to do so. Right now, I need to find a way out of this room, away from Adrian’s knives, and back to the man who actually loves me.
Leo’s face fills my mind, making me recall the protective fury in his eyes when he tried to warn me about my parents’ involvement with Adrian. I dismissed his concerns as manipulation, but he was trying to save me from exactly this situation. Now, I’m trapped in a concrete room with men who see me as merchandise, and the only person who can help me is the one I accused of lying and trying to control me. The irony would be painful if it weren’t so potentially fatal.
I close my eyes and whisper his name, hoping somehow the words will reach him across the city. “Leo, please find me. Find us.”
Outside the room, I hear footsteps and muffled voices speaking Russian. Someone laughs at what sounds like a crude joke, and they seem casual and relaxed, as if guarding kidnapped pregnant women is routine work.
I test the zip ties one more time, ignoring the burn as they cut into my skin. The plastic seems slightly loose around my left wrist. It’s not yet enough to slip free, but enough to give me hope. If my babies are going to survive this, I need to be ready when my chance comes, and it will.
Leo will come for me. He has to. The alternative is too terrible to consider.
26
Leo
Raquel’s voice crackles through my earpiece as we speed through Queens traffic. “I found them. There’s an apartment building in Astoria registered to one of Adrian’s shell companies.”
“How certain are you?” I check my weapon again, making sure the magazine is full and the safety is off.
“Facial recognition caught Kozlov entering the building forty minutes ago, and I found the damaged vehicle from the kidnapping parked behind the building after ‘borrowing’ the NSA’s satellite system.” She sounds exhausted. “They have some nifty toys, which let me confirm there are at least six heat signatures inside. They’re on the third floor in a corner unit. According to the schematics, it’s 3C.”
I’m impressed by how much she’s learned, but I focus on logistics. Praise—and a raise—will come later. “Are they armed?”
“Assume yes. The NSA satellite probably has the capability to determine that, but I don’t have time to dig into all its functions. I have to extricate myself before they realize I’m there and erase my backdoor.” She’s quiet for a minute, but her keyboard keeps clicking. “I’m sending building schematics to your phone now.”
Ilya takes a sharp turn that throws me against the passenger door. Behind us, two more SUVs carry the rest of our team, which is twelve men total, all armed for war. If I waited a few hours, I could call on more, but I’m not leaving her in Adrian’s clutches any longer than I must.
I thank Raquel and hang up as my phone beeps with her email. I open it and study it for a long moment. “There are two stairwells. Once is the main entrance and the other is a fire escape.”
“We can split the team.” Ilya briefly glances at me before returning his gaze to the road.
“No.” I trace the building’s layout with my finger. “We go in together, fast and hard. I don’t want Adrian to have time to hurt her.”
“As you say, boss.” Ilya nods in agreement and completes the drive in record time for Queens traffic. When we arrive, the destination is in a residential neighborhood with brick apartment buildings mixed with small businesses and corner stores. It’s the perfect place to hide someone in plain sight where neighbors mind their own business. It also makes our need for discretion and carefully selected shots more vital. I don’t want any innocents injured in the crossfire.
“There.” I point to a six-story brick building with fire escapes zigzagging down its face. Two black SUVs sit in the parking areabehind the building, partially hidden by dumpsters, and one has a damaged front fender, confirming this is the place.
Ilya parks on a side street where our vehicles won’t be visible from the target building. The other SUVs follow suit, and within seconds, armed men surround our position.
“Remember,” I address the team quietly, “Sienna is inside. She’s pregnant, and she’s been through enough. Anyone who puts her at additional risk answers to me personally.”
There are nods all around. These men have worked with me long enough to know my threats aren’t empty.
“Kozlov and his men are expendable. Adrian is mine.” I slide a knife into my boot and check my back-up weapon. “Questions?” No one speaks, so I nod. “Move out.”
We approach the apartment building using parked cars and building shadows for cover. The lobby entrance is secured with a keypad lock, but these old buildings have weak security. Mikhail produces a small device that bypasses the electronic lock within seconds. The mechanism clicks open with barely a sound.
“Third floor,” I whisper into my radio. “Corner unit, apartment 3C. We take the main stairwell.”
