Page 35 of The Mistake

I was still in his penthouse apartment.Ive hadn’t made the decision to go back to his country home. Now, I liked boredom, I really did, but this was a little too much. I’d wake up and Ive wouldn’t be there. We didn’t share a bedroom. Even though I had filled the closet opposite where his clothes were, he’d taken the second bedroom, and I slept in this one. Even though I knew it was his bedroom. So, every morning I woke up alone.

Hubert was always in the apartment. There was always a package from thelocal bakery with a fresh cinnamon roll and a hot coffee. They were nice, but I wasn’t a big fan of cinnamon. By the end of the seventh day, I looked at the cinnamon roll and knew I was going to be sick if I ate it again.

“Do you want it?” I asked Hubert.

“It’s your breakfast.”

“But I don’t like it and if you don’t eat it, then I’m going to throw it in the trash.” Which sounded like a perfectly good waste of food.

“You’ve eaten it every single day.”

“Because the first day it was sweet of him to do so, and then the second. But I can’t eat that much cinnamon. I’m going to throw up.”

He chuckled.

“Fine.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Mr. Yahontov thought you liked cinnamon rolls, which is why he kept buying them for you.”

“Is there any food in the kitchen?” I handed the wrapped package to Hubert.

“What about the coffee?” he asked.

“I’ll drink the coffee.” I took a sip of the liquid and it was so good. So, so, so good. Walking through to the kitchen, I started to open cupboards and there was nothing there. “No food?”

“Mr. Yahontov eats out.”

I groan. I’m starving.

“Then I guess we’re eating out.” I’d not left the apartment without Ive since we got here. I missed Michael. Imissed his country home. I hated the city. I hated sitting all day watching television with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs. It wasn’t fun.

Stepping past Hubert, I reached for my jacket and he suddenly stepped in front of me, a cell phone in his hand.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We don’t have permission to leave.”

“What?”Hubert put the cell phone to his ear. I couldn’t believe this. “Am I a prisoner here?”

I shouldn’t be surprised. I’d been kidnapped by the Volkov Bratva and now I was pissed off. I thought the prisoner status left when I was married to one of them. I wasn’t stupid. There was no way I was going to run off to the police. Even though I’d been kidnapped, thrown in a cell, drugged, and well, moved to another cell, the irony was they had been nice to me. How crazy was that?

Back home with my father and his MC club, I had allthe freedom in the world. I could come and go as I pleased. Even after he’d beaten me, no one did anything. They all feared him. Did I actually have more freedom back then? I know I’m messed up. The beatings, the constant abuse, but I had locked it all in a box. A slap from my father got pushed into a box. The beatings, each one got pushed into that box. It made life a lot easier to keep everything locked away. None of those memories or time with the Volkov Bratva had been placed in my protective box.

Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I looked at Hubert as he put the cell phone to his ear. I step back and take a deep breath.

Am Ia prisoner? Are they still planning to kill me?

I don’t listen to Hubert as he talks to who I assume is my husband. I’m still in shock that I can’t just leave when I want to.

I am a prisoner.

I thought about the cell phone Rage had tried to give to me and what Iconfessed to Ivan. Should I have kept it? Would it have been able to grant me my freedom?

“We can go,” Hubert said.

I ignore him, but follow as he takes the lead. Hubert isn’t my bodyguard. He’s my prison guard. We step onto the elevator, and I watch himclick the bottom button to take us to the underground parking lot. I go through the motions as he opens the car door and sits in the back. I take a seat, and put the seat belt on before he’s even gotten behind the wheel. He doesn’t ask where I want to go, but within seconds, we’re out of the building and joining the many cars congesting the roads. Neither of us talks as he navigates the traffic.

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