Page 7 of Knocked up by the Mafia

I go out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. Natalia is just standing there.

“Do you not want coffee?”

“No,” she says simply. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see soon enough. Though I’m really sorry, you’ll have to get into the trunk of the car until we get there.” I shrug. “It’s a precaution, so you’re not seen.”

Natalia nods. “Noted. I suppose we can go then.”

She is being cold. Her annoyance at this inconvenience amuses me for some reason. I don’t even offer her shoes. She wanted to ditch the boots last night, so now she can walk barefoot to the car.

I get her in the trunk and leave the apartment building. I drive to the address that Mick has sent, I have the map showing on the GPS, but I disable the voice so that she can’t hear the directions.

We reach the house, and I wait. A kid approaches my car and knocks three times on the window. I roll down the window, and he hands me the keys and a clicker before he slinks off.

I drive into the garage, get Natalia out of the trunk, and we enter the house. She looks around, as do I. It’s secure, with a nice high wall and electric fencing. Mick didn’t hold out on me. I will remember that.

“So this is our home. Consider it a wedding gift.” I look at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“This isn’tourhome. This ismyprison.” She looks around again, and the comment makes me feel a little weird. I saved her life, am protecting her, and haven’t hurt her, yet she seems to despise me after I announced we were married.

“Well, if you want, we can relax on the sofa, and I’ll rub your feet.”

I meant it as a joke, but it hangs in the air like an awkward side glance. Natalia stares at me then she picks up some clothes she spots. “I’m going to shower and stay in the guest bedroom, not yours.”

I don’t say anything as she walks away though I am picturing her naked in the hot shower.

I won’t join her…yet.

Chapter 5 - Natalia

I put the clothes on the bed of what looks like the guest room. Thankfully it has an en suite bathroom. I check it out. Everything is in there that I could possibly need, even tampons, and I grab a towel from the shelves and hang it on the nearby towel rod. I run the hot water and undress. I feel gross in my clothes, and the leather chafes my skin.

The hot water feels like a godsend, and my body relaxes. I whip around, though, thinking I heard the door open. I strain to listen and hear it close again.

Is he coming to shower with me? I’ll stab a motherfucker. I wait again, the wait feels agonizing, but no one enters the bathroom. Maybe he brought something for me to my room, something I forgot.

I continue to shower wearily, though. Then I hear a familiar sound and nearly jump out of my skin. It’s my phone ringing.

Did he bring my phone to my room? That’s awfully fucking trusting.

I leave it to ring, scared it’s a trap. Instead, I decide to act nonchalant. I get out and dry my body slowly. I wring out my hair as much as possible, then comb my fingers through it to get the tangles out.

My phone continues to ring, stopping now and then for short moments. Someone is desperately trying to reach me, and I bet anything it’s my brother or Ivan. I walk back into the room and search for it. My phone is on the bed with some trainers and socks. I continue exploring the room, ensuring no one is in there with me.

I then lock the door and lie on the bed. I switch my phone to do not disturb and curl up on the bed. I don’t know what to say to my brother or Ivan. When there’s a big enough gap between the phone buzzing with calls, I send a message to say I’m fine and I’ll call them later.

I then set the phone down and climb under the duvet. I could call them now and tell them what’s happened, that I’m being held against my will by one of the scariest killers alive. I might have to admit that I had slept with him before being taken, but it is not a detail I want to get into. But if I do that, if I try and escape by getting the family involved, then Daniel might actually kill me before they get here.

Dammit, I customized my phone so that no one, not even my brother, could track me down. It’s part of the reason I’ve never been caught.

I rest with my head on the pillow, staring at the door. I wonder if he’s on the other side thinking about coming in. His comment about rubbing my feet weirded me out. I don’t know where that came from, and afterward, he looked a bit out of place. That is not at all what I would expect from him.

The house is lovely, and I wonder how long he’s owned it. Though it is stocked with clothes, and apparently trainers, in my size. Does he kidnap and marry women often? Or is this something new, and he’s just seriously organized?

Why is he being so nice to me?

God, I have so many questions for him, but I bet on my life that he won’t be willing to answer any of them. I doze off for a few hours. It’s late afternoon when I sit up, startled, forgetting where I am. My phone buzzes like crazy beside me on the bed, and I look at the screen.

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