Page 38 of Disgraced (Russian Sinners 3)

Scarlett

Tonight has been a nightmare.

I kept waiting to wake up. I had to wake up. Anastasia was gone and my whole body shook with fear for her. I was also worried about Sergei. He always sent a note if he was running late. I had texted him numerous times tonight and still no response.

What if something happened to him?

The knock on the hotel door had me pausing. It must be Olivia. We were both upset for staying behind at the nightclub. We should have all left together. Instead, I was so adamant about seeing Sergei, I endangered her life by letting her go home alone.

Opening the door, I started speaking, “Olivia, are you-” I cut myself off. It wasn’t Olivia. My brain was too slow to process it, and it was too late when I tried to shut the door in his face.

“Don’t shut the door,” he ordered, his voice calm, so contrary to my racing heart.

“Michail, what are you doing here?” I spat out as I tried to push the door into his face. I remembered him. He was a hard one to forget with his intimidating looks and tattoos covering his neck. Before I left for my summer trip, he was visiting my parents.

“Came to get you.” Shit, he didn’t even bother to lie to me. And he was still just as chitchatty as last time. Actually, I had to give credit where credit was due. He spoke a tad bit more.

He pushed the door wide open and I ran further into the room. It was stupid. I should have kicked him in the balls and ran past him. That was my only way out. I watched him shut the door behind him and I cursed myself for such stupidity. He didn’t seem fazed at all while I practically panted here, scared out of my mind.

“Who sent you?” I asked, getting behind the coffee table. It was my only barrier.

“Your future husband.”

No!

How did he know I was here? Oh shit, if they were following me, they’d know I was messing around with Sergei. God, I hope they didn’t kill him. Maybe that was the reason he didn’t come to the nightclub.

“You tell him to go to hell,” I spat at him, pushing the coffee table at him. It hit him in his shin, and I could tell it hurt him. But not enough to deter him or slow him down. “My father will have your head, and his for this.”

I grabbed my suitcase sitting behind me and threw it at him but he dodged it easily. Clothes scattered all over the hotel floor. Damn it, I needed it to hit him straight in the head and give him a concussion.

“Nobody will hurt you,” he stated calmly, his Russian accent thick.

“Yeah, right,” I muttered. “Does someone actually believe you when you say that?”

He didn’t answer and I interpreted that my way. Yes, he was scary as shit. On my dad’s property, I didn’t even break a sweat. He’d never let anyone hurt me. Out in the world, it is a completely different story, and this man that my father knew was a threat.

My eyes darted left and right, desperately trying to spot something I could use as a weapon. I spotted my iPhone sitting on the nightstand to the right of Michail. I tried to think of a best way to dodge this guy. Maybe I should do what squirrels do? They always tricked you pretending to go left then right, and then fool you only to turn left again.

I had nothing to lose. Either I tried that or jumped over the balcony, which would result in my death one hundred percent. While my whole body was currently running on adrenaline, this guy was calm as an iceberg.

So I gave it a try. I darted to the right, he followed although not very aggressively. He actually looked like he was bored. I shifted to the left and again he followed. Then abruptly I jumped to the right and ran for it, grabbing the phone. I couldn’t believe he fell for it. I ran for the door but barely got three feet away from him before he caught me. My breathing was heavy, you’d think I had run a marathon.

I tried to pull my arm out of his grip then went to hit him but he caught that arm too. I tried aiming my knee into his sensitive area… unsuccessfully. Apparently, this guy was a mind reader so he blocked that too. But there was no way I’d go down without a fight.

I tried to hit him, kick him, scream while he stood there like an unmoving giant. Picking me up effortlessly, he threw me over his shoulder and then the world turned dark.

When I woke up, my whole body hurt. My body was twisted in an odd angle, my face smashed into a pillow. I opened my eyes, and a sharp pain shot through my head.

“Ugh,” I muttered, lifting my head.

My face wasn’t smashed into a pillow. It was plastered against the backseat of a car. How in the hell did I get into a car?

Then I remembered. Michail, Anastasia, Russian Orchid. I tried to push myself up and realized my hands and legs were bound.

“What the fuck?” I muttered. “Michail, if you are there you better unbound me right now,” I demanded.

“I don’t think so.” No explanation, no justification… nothing.

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