Caught

ALEKSANDR

^PART TWO^

^ONE YEAR LATER^

The moment I stepped out of the SUV, Nikolai was there, his face twisted into a scowl.

He fell into step beside me, matching my stride as we headed toward the house. Nikolai, or Niko as I called him, was a bit shorter than my six-foot-three frame, but he was just as muscular and made for a formidable enforcer.

He didn’t take crap from anyone, much like myself. We’d been friends since childhood and he was one of the few people I trusted completely.

“Did she give you a hard time?” I asked, noticing his irritated look, which was unusual for him.

Niko wasn’t one to get easily upset, especially not by a woman. He ran a hand through his hair, which usually fell into his eyes, and let out a long sigh.

“That’s putting it mildly,” he grumbled. “She wouldn’t stop talking. Kept insisting on speaking to you and threatened to castrate anyone who touched her. She’s a spitfire. She said she wouldn’t leave the country until she had a word with you. I had to sedate her to get her on the plane.”

I raised an eyebrow.

That was intriguing because from what I’d seen, she was a petite woman. When Niko had brought her to me at Cristo’s house in Mexico, and I’d recognized her, I was filled with rage.

I’d instructed Niko to detain her until I could interrogate her. She’d put up a fight, but I didn’t have the time to deal with her, so I’d left her to Niko while I settled things with Anton and Santi.

But anger wasn’t the only emotion she stirred in me. The unexpected gut punch was quickly followed by a stirring in my groin, which had been indifferent to sex until now.

Regardless of the emotions she evoked in me, one fact was undeniable. We’d found her at Cristo’s house, and from what Niko had observed, she’d been living there with him, not as a captive.

She had her own room and lived in luxury. It was clear she was his favorite. We needed to question her, especially since she seemed to be the same girl who had infiltrated our warehouse a year ago and installed spyware on our computer.

Was she doing it for ~him~? I didn’t trust her. I ~couldn’t~ trust her.

Niko and I descended to the basement of the house, where I had cells and a room I used for “information extraction,” also known as my torture room.

It would serve her right if Niko had left her chained up in there to frighten her. But instead, he’d left her sleeping off the sedative on a small cot in one of the cold, steel cells.

She was the enemy, and I didn’t care about her comfort. She was groaning and clutching her head when Niko opened the door, and I walked in, a bottle of water in my hand, almost like a peace offering.

She was tiny, swallowed up by the oversized hoodie she wore, but there was no denying her beauty. The fact that I noticed that first annoyed me, making my voice harsh when I spoke.

“Drink this, it’ll help with your headache,” I said, offering her the bottle.

She lowered her hands from her head and glared at me.

She snatched the bottle from my hand and downed half of it in one gulp.

Why did I feel a pang of guilt watching her in pain?

I exhaled and composed my face, not wanting her to see the internal struggle I was experiencing.

“Your guy didn’t need to drug me,” she said, her voice matching my tone. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets, looming over her in an attempt to intimidate her.

“That’s good to know.”

But she didn’t seem intimidated at all. In fact, she scowled, and her expression made me want to smile. Was I losing my mind?

“Where am I?”

I raised an eyebrow at her sharp tone and ignored the way my body reacted to her, as if waking from a long sleep.

“I’m at home,” I responded, my annoyance escalating as my body reacted to her presence.

She raised an eyebrow at me this time.

I felt a stirring in my pants.

~Damn it~.

“Which one? Russia, America, or ~Paris~?” she asked, making it clear she knew who I was and where I owned properties. “What country are we in?”

I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my tone icy. I ignored her questions and tried to get my rebellious body to chill out.

“Kaia,” she answered promptly.

“And your last name?”

She looked at me for a moment, as if deciding whether to answer. Then she shook her head, clearly choosing not to.

“My last name isn’t important.”

I clicked my tongue, trying to annoy her on purpose. I didn’t like how calm and collected she was, while my body was in turmoil.

I wanted to see her get defensive.

“Come on, ~kotik~.” I coaxed her, “You said you’d tell me anything I wanted to know.”

She frowned at the term of endearment, ~kotik~. But I could tell she understood. Did she speak Russian?

“I will,” she said, “eventually. But first, you have to do something for me.”

I moved closer to her and was pleased to see her recoil slightly before she caught herself and sat up straighter.

“I think you’re forgetting where you are, kotik.” I let her see the look in my eyes, the one that made my enemies tremble in fear. “You’re a captive here. You don’t get to ask questions. You don’t get to ask for ~favors~. Your life is ~mine~. To do with as I please.”

I could see her chest rising and falling with her breaths. I could see the fear in her eyes, even as her fists clenched defiantly at her sides on the bed.

~Show me your fight, little kitten~.

When she remained silent, I continued.

“Who was Don Cristo to you? A lover?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm, trying to control the anger at the thought.

She scoffed, and a look of disgust crossed her face, which eased my tension a bit.

“My jailer,” she spat. “Looks like you two have something in common.”

I clicked my tongue again and watched her lips tighten at the sound. She was trying to provoke me, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

“You had a suite in his house,” I pointed out. “There are no marks on your wrists from cuffs or chains. I assumed you had free rein in his house.”

For the first time, she looked unsure.

“What exactly are you accusing me of, Aleksandr?”

My body tensed at the sound of my name on her lips, and my calm facade fell as my anger surged.

I reached down and wrapped my fingers around her throat, squeezing just enough to warn her. I watched fear finally flicker in her eyes, a shimmering green, like the Caribbean Sea and just as unpredictable. Her hand shot up, and her fingers gripped my wrist instinctively.

“I didn’t give you permission to use my name, ~little thief~,” I growled at her, our faces only inches apart.

I felt her swallow under my fingers, and my eyes dropped to her lips as they parted slightly.

“I’m…I’m sorry, pakhan,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

The feel of her skin under my fingers, the faint scent of jasmine that clung to her, made me hiss as I pushed her away and stormed out of the room.

I would interrogate her later.

But first, I needed to regain control before I messed everything up. Including her.