Page 30 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
I respected that and let her do as she pleased. I almost never saw her in person these days because she was always in her room and hardly stepped out. However, the few times when she did, she’d either be in the library or in the garden.
She never came down for breakfast or dinner, and so I had the maids always bring her food to her. Wren didn’t want anything to do with me; she was avoiding me in the ways that she could.
I could force her to do as I wanted, whenever I wanted, and however I wanted. She belonged to me now, meaning she was subject to my every command. But just because I could make her do as I pleased didn’t mean that I should.
She was going through a hard time, and I understood that she needed some space to think. Coming to terms with her new reality would take a while—maybe even longer than I expected. That’s fine. I’d wait. Besides, patience was one of my strong suits.
As the days went by, I noticed that she was gradually starting to slip out of her shell. I ran into her more often than before—in the living room, the garden, and the hallways. Sometimes, she’d greet me; other times, she’d just walk past.
She couldn’t stay locked in her room forever; that was for sure. However, that wasn’t the only thing that I noticed. It turned out that as I was watching from a distance, she, too, was doing the same in secret. I’d been in the game long enough to sense when someone was stalking me—spying on me—especially in my own house.
Wren was studying me like a book, and she was doing that from a distance. I’d caught her watching me so many times during my routine morning workouts in the estate’s private gym. Sometimes, she watched from the window; other times, she’d stand by the door, watching me from the shadows.
Her sneak peaks should be creepy, especially because I had no idea what was going on in that head of hers. But I found it rather fascinating. I’d caught her gaze several times, sweeping over my body. I wasn’t sure why. I had a theory—that she might find my build attractive—but then again, that wasn’t something I’d count on.
As time went on, I realized I wasn’t the only thing she was observing. She was careful, but at some point, she got sloppy, and I caught her watching the cameras in the house. It was almost like she was trying to count how many and where exactly they were planted.
All that time in the garden, she wasn’t just enjoying the fresh air and the scent of fresh flowers. She’d been observing the surroundings like someone planning her escape.
Wren was smart enough to avoid the cameras in the library. Whenever she was in there, she’d sit at strategic angles—blind spots. Even while I watched her, I’d have no idea what she was reading.
While she was asleep in her room one night, I had two other cameras installed in the library. Hidden. The next day, I waited patiently in my study, watching her from the screen. She stepped into the library like every other day and sat at her table with her back against the main camera.
My eyes flicked to the footage from the newly installed CCTV that had captured not just her face, but also the exact thing she was studying at that table. The mansion’s blueprint.
So that’s what she was up to? She thought reading the blueprint would somehow show her a way out of here—a hidden passage perhaps. She was wrong. That wasn’t the original blueprint of the mansion. It was just the first draft. Only I had access to the original copy.
That was a smart move, though. I gave her that. Although she’d never find what she was looking for because the draft on paper—that paper—was slightly different from the building in real life. Studying that copy would get her nowhere. It would only leave her more frustrated and pissed.
She didn’t know it yet, but this was the safest place she could be at this time of her life. If she set foot out of here, there was no guarantee that she would survive one day on her own. Not while the likes of Elder Akim and Damien were still out there. Not to mention whoever was behind the attack on my mansion.
We’d killed all the assassins that evening, and now I realized just how impulsive that move was. I wasn’t thinking clearly because if I had, I would’ve realized we needed to keep at least one alive for questioning. However, moved by my anger and fear for Wren’s safety, I ordered Luka to kill them all.
Now, we had no idea who was behind that attack, what they wanted, and who exactly their target was. Seeing that it wasmyplace that was raided by gunmen, it was safe to assume thatI was the target. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that just maybe I wasn’t the main target that evening.
Perhaps those sons of bitches didn’t come for me. Perhaps they came for Wren.
The mansion was a fuckin’ fortress, meaning there was no way those assassins would’ve found their way in without someone’s help. Someone from within the mansion. I was dealing with a mole.
Right now, for me, it was no longer about who the target was that night. It was more about who sold me out. I hadn’t addressed the issue yet, but I was watching all of my men and domestic staff—paying attention to their behaviors, moods, and actions.
I was half sitting on the edge of the dining table with the sleeves of my black shirt rolled up to my elbows. The tie around my neck was loose, and in my hand was a pistol I was polishing lazily with a white cloth.
A thousand thoughts overlapped in my head as I sat there in silence, thinking of ways to fish out the mole in my house. Then, I sensed another presence around me. I didn’t have to lift my head to know who it was—her perfume gave her away.
She lingered at the entrance, and even though I hadn’t looked in her direction yet, I could feel her gaze on me.
“You just gonna stand there?” I asked without raising my head.
“Maybe,” she replied, her voice calm and gentle.
Usually, each time she spoke to me, the hatred in her tone, laced with traces of pain and frustration, was often hard to miss. However, this time, it was different. Those emotions were still there, of course. But I barely caught them.
Curious, I lifted my head, my gaze settling on her. She wore an oversized shirt with long sleeves that swallowed herarms. Normally, she preferred baggy pants, but today, she wore none. Just the shirt, long enough to brush against her knees.
My eyes dropped to her alluring thighs—fresh and smooth, enough to spark something primal inside me. Heat spread low across my body, and I felt my shaft swell in my pants.
She looked different today—seductive in the most subtle way ever. Her sweet scent drifted toward me, invading my senses—and her soft expression almost brought a smile to my face.
