Page 47 of Disgraced (Russian Sinners 3)

I forced my eyes open and stared at the man in front of me. He was the wrong man, wrong eyes, wrong hair, wrong face. I blinked in confusion. Where was Sergei? Then it all came back. Michail kidnapped me, on behalf of my future husband. Talk about a rude awakening. That thought was more powerful than an icy cold shower.

I pushed off Michail. “What?” My voice sounded raspy, harsher than I intended.

Michail’s gaze on me watched me pensively. I worried he saw too much. God, I was tired of this. I wanted to go back to two weeks ago and leave that damn club along with Anastasia. We’d all be together now if only we all left together.

“You’ve slept for twenty-four hours straight,” Michail murmured softly.

“So what?” I spat back at him, pulling my knees to my chest. “It is not like I have anything else to do.”

Shit, I was so tired. I could just go back to sleep. At least in my dreams, I had Sergei with me.

“I’m sorry I locked you in this room,” Michail surprised me with his apology. “I was in pain and wasn’t thinking straight.”

Now it was my turn to observe him pensively. I didn’t expect his apology. After all, I hurt him worse.

“I’m sorry I kicked you in the-” I cleared my throat uncomfortably, “Um, in the sensitive area. Are you okay?”

“Yes, all better.” He smiled, actually smiled. And my mouth fell open. This man was fucking beautiful when he smiled. Drop dead gorgeous beautiful! Not my type, but still. It was a crime to have such a transformation in any human being. It was unexpected.

“Jesus, Michail,” I muttered, scooting back a bit. “You are drop dead gorgeous when you smile. You shouldn’t smile.”

His smile shifted to a wide grin. “Is that a compliment, Scarlett?”

“Umm, I guess so. Just didn’t see it coming.” I tried to justify myself, aware I was staring at him. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Not sure where the question came from. I knew it wasn’t an appropriate conversation to have, while he sat on my bed. I just came out of the dream with Sergei fresh on my mind. And he worked for my future husband. Gosh, that was the biggest strike against Michail.

“No. Not a girlfriend in sight,” he replied. “How about we call a truce?”

I blinked my eyes confused. Was he purposely smiling so he could throw me off my game plan of escaping?

“What do you have in mind?” I asked him suspiciously.

“No more escaping,” he suggested. “And I let you roam free the entire compound.”

“Compound?” Where was I exactly? When we arrived it was dark, so it was hard to see. I haven’t been outside in two weeks, although the view from my balcony was beautiful.

“The property,” he paraphrased. “We call it compound. The whole property is safeguarded.”

We eyed each other in silence, as if measuring whether we could trust each other. The thing was that I didn’t have much of a choice. I could make it difficult for myself, or come to terms and make the best out of it.

“So when is my future husband coming?” I asked. Because if I was pregnant, and he shows up in six months, I’d be doomed. There would be no hiding at that point. I needed him here now.

“Soon,” was all Michail said. “Do we have a truce?”

“Sure, Michail,” I answered with a sigh. “We have a truce.”

He extended his hand and I eyed it. Did he really expect me to seal it with a shake? That was as good as a contract in the mob world. Was I resigning myself to this fate?

“Fine,” I took his hand and shook it. If it would keep Sergei safe from them all, it was worth the sacrifice. And I’d have his baby.

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