Page 16 of Beast

I’d tried to figure out the times. But it was crazy doing it with no clock, no watch. I used only the sun setting and rising as a means of knowing how many days I’d been here.

I used my phone for everything. I remember what my uncle once said to me.“Natalia, what will you do one day when you have no phone? This is why it is good to have a watch. Without time, you have no purpose.”

I didn’t understand what he meant until now. I did feel a little lost. Lost in the sense of time, and the quick flash of memory of my uncle made me not want to be alone. Even if it was with my captor.

“This is one of my favorite dishes. Mom used to make it for me whenever it was a special occasion to make me feel good.”

“Used to?” I raised an eyebrow, and his gaze, which once met mine, darted in a different direction, letting me know that the memory of his mom was just as painful as mine of my uncle. This was the issue with the Bratva. If you met anyone associated with it, guaranteed they’d lost someone not by natural causes but by them being murdered. It was a horrible life, one that I’d disassociated myself from as soon as I had graduated high school. But the awareness of it all had hijacked me from the moment I was kidnapped.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” he asked and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

“Sure.” Finally being over the legal age in America had its perks. It sucked when I first came to America at eighteen to find out it was illegal, and I had to wait until I was twenty-one without having to worry about having a drink.

“Okay, if you want to be like that. I’m sure once you have a taste of what I’ve prepared, then you’ll be full of more than one-word answers.”

More like, when I have a couple of glasses of wine, I would be. Right now, I was in a state of denial. Denying my attraction and excitement about the whole idea of us sitting down and having a romantic meal, and pretending that I would use this as an opportunity to get off this island. His walkie-talkie. I could grab it and try to see if I could get someone on the line. Like if it was a radio, I could call for help. I just had to be careful and not call one of his men accidentally.

I had no other opportunity to do anything else right now. As much as my senses were telling me otherwise.

“I wanted to use this opportunity to be a better host.”

I stood frozen, too scared to go outside, and the same fear kept me inside. “Did something happen? We haven’t spoken for days, yet you’re acting strange.” Oh no, did my dad refuse to do what they wanted? Did they no longer need me and I was going to be killed?

Once again, his dark eyes met mine. “Come, it’s time to eat. We will talk business another time. I’m famished.”

He walked with me to the table he had set up for two outside in the moonlight.

A scent lured me closer, and my eyes raced across the wooden table, which was now covered in white linen with a candle in the middle of it.

His hand shifted across the table as he explained what we were going to eat. “This is garlic bread for you to snack on, then the side dish is a green salad with a lemon sauce, then the main dish of sea bream with slices of potato and asparagus. And for dessert? Well, that’s a surprise.”

“It looks amazing. Are you sure all this is just for the two of us?” I couldn’t help myself from asking, and my stomach was already growling for me to shut up and eat.

He chuckled, and it was the first time I’d noticed—maybe because he’d never laughed until now—that he had a dimple at the same place where he had the scar.

“Sit. Eat.”

I didn’t hesitate, grabbing a piece of garlic bread, from the sliced baguette. It was so soft and hot.

“Did you make this all here?” I asked with a full mouth.

He chuckled once again. “No.”

Then he joined me and started to eat too, but more civilized, as he put the napkin across his lap. Then he seemed to admire me eating as my fork and hands darted across the two plates, ignoring the salad.

“You’re not much of a salad person, are you?”

“I’m not a healthy eater at all. Mom said that the moment I have children I would regret my bad eating habits. I have no plans on having children yet, so I’m enjoying eating rubbish while I can.” He nodded like what I said made perfect sense to him.

So much for not being a fish eater. I realized as the white fish hit my tongue, that it didn’t smell like a typical fish, which meant all the ones I’d been eating were the wrong ones. This one was fleshy, like eating chicken, but a lot softer.

“How did you make all this and I didn’t smell it all day?” I asked while closing my eyes and enjoying every succulent taste.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that. Are you enjoying it?”

I nodded, but he was avoiding the question, which meant only one thing. He didn’t make it here, it was brought here. And the question was, how?

“Are you studying law to figure out how your dad could avoid going to prison for all his crimes?”

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