Come to think of it, she didn’t know any of Fedor’s employees’ names.
The guard nodded and stepped back, speaking into his microphone, too low for Ginny to hear. Her sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel. What if they refused to let her in? This ordeal could be over before it even began.
After a moment, the guard pressed a button and waved her on. Ginny drove through the gate, feeling very much like she was passing through the gates of hell.
Even though it was cold outside, sweat trickled down her back. God, she hoped she wouldn’t sweat so much the tape securing the wire would come free.
Pull yourself together, Ginny.
She took a few cleansing breaths and stepped out of the car. She hesitated with her finger poised over the lock button on the key fob. No, better to leave it open in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
She tucked the keys in her pocket and adjusted her shirt. The walk to the porch was endless, her heart beating so hard she felt sure it was audible outside her body.
After pressing the doorbell, she stepped back, thinking the door would open any second. She assumed the guard had been speaking with someone at the house, letting them know she was on her way. The seconds turned into a minute.
She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the camera mounted above the door. They knew she was out here, yet they let her wait. It was such a Fedor thing to do, a total power play. It pissed her off.
Good. She would use that. Being pissed off was preferable to being scared. So little did they know their power play had backfired.
She pressed the doorbell again. Every second it took for the door to open made her more and more irritated.
When it finally opened, Fedor himself appeared. She was shocked, thinking that he would send an underling, but she recovered quickly.
“Hello, Fedor,” she said. She kept her tone just on the sweet side of neutral.
Fedor looked her over, his eyes slowly devouring her body inch-by-inch. It made her skin crawl.
“Ginny, luybov moya.” He didn’t make any move to let her in, not making it easy for her. But it was the first chink in his armor—it showed he was angry at her.
Ginny couldn’t deny that Fedor had some sort of odd affection for her. At one point, he even told her she reminded him of his mother. She’d have to use that to her advantage. Perhaps her best course of action was to act contrite and grovel a bit.
“May I come in?” she asked, lowering her eyes subserviently. He always liked when she did that—acted deferential to him.
“Of course.” He stepped aside, but only so that she was barely able to slip through and her breasts brushed his chest as she passed.
Bastard.
She headed toward the parlor, but Fedor put a hand on her arm to stop her and she barely managed to keep from cringing at the feel of his hand on her skin.
“Let’s go to the office,” he said. “That would be the appropriate place to discuss business.”
She paused, trying to come up with a way out of being closeted in his prison of an office. “I believe this is more personal than business.” She looked up at him under lowered lashes.
“With me, business is always personal. Haven’t you learned that yet?” He put his hand out to usher her along.
Damn. Protesting any more would just serve to anger him, which wouldn’t help her.
“If you insist,” she said, walking toward his office. She’d only been in there once before and though it had only been for a moment, it was enough to give her the creeps. The office was situated on an exterior wall, yet there were no windows. At first she’d just regarded it as an odd architectural choice, but later she realized the true reason—Fedor didn’t want anyone knowing what went on inside his office. No windows meant there was no chance anyone would see in.
While there were generally employees around at any given time, she didn’t see anyone and it was unusually quiet. Her stomach knotted. Although the employees were most likely loyal to him, their presence always made her feel better.
But it appeared she was truly alone with Fedor.
Not true. Tony, along with Detective Plasky, was listening. The thought gave her strength.
She passed through the office door and it was just as she remembered—monochrome decor, cold metal furniture, oppressive gray walls decorated with macabre paintings. The door closed behind her with an ominous click.
Not good, not good, not good! Her mental red flag was furiously waving, but she pushed it out of her mind.
“Please.” Fedor gestured to the bright white sofa. “Have a seat.”
She sat on the edge and placed her hands in her lap, trying to stop herself from fidgeting. Fedor noticed, glancing at her hands, and a detestable smile stretched on his face.
He likes seeing me squirm.
Her fingers curled into fists, but she released them, this time forcing herself to continue fidgeting. She would let Fedor think he had the upper hand, that she wasn’t a threat. She never had been.
Until now.
“I think there have been some misunderstandings between us,” she said.
“Misunderstandings? How so? It’s not a misunderstanding that you didn’t take my calls.” Was that a touch of hurt in his voice?
“Fedor, you hit me.” She mustered up a few tears and let her voice shake. “What was I supposed to think?”
“Now that, my dear, was definitely a misunderstanding.”
She cocked her head. “How so?”
“You misunderstood me. Your role is to promote and support me with your contacts, but you failed at that responsibility.”
“I don’t understand,” Ginny protested. “I’ve done nothing but make introductions at every event we’ve attended. I thought you were pleased.” She added that last part as an afterthought, wanting him to think she cared what he thought of her.
“Yes, except for the last one. You disappeared for quite some time. I cannot have my betrothed unaccounted for. How does that make me look?”
Ginny’s mouth went dry. “I ran into an old friend and the time got away from us while we caught up.” It was best to stick as close to the truth as possible. Ginny waved her hand dismissively, wanting to end this topic of conversation. “But I’m not here to discuss that. I want to talk about our contract.”
“You’re not wearing your ring,” Fedor commented. His observation would be innocent enough except his tone was laced with malice.
Ginny’s gaze shifted down to her left hand and she automatically covered it up with her right, which made her look guilty as hell. Damn. It hadn’t occurred to her to wear her engagement ring. She didn’t even know where it was—probably still sitting behind Tony’s TV where it had landed after she’d thrown in.
Once again though, Fedor’s voice was laced with undertones of hurt. Why the hell would he be hurt? He’d blackmailed her into agreeing to marry him and he’d beat her. Then he’d ordered her parents’ house firebombed. Did he really think she’d still wear his ring after all that?
One look at his expression told her yes, he did. He wasn’t used to defiance and that’s exactly how he viewed her actions.
“Yes, I took it off after you beat me.” Ginny stared him in the eye, not willing to act contrite about that. “After that incident, I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue with our contract.”
His expression became dark, all-business. “You break the contract and I release the information about your sister. Do you really want her to be labeled a murderer?”
And there it was—there was no way she could keep Veronica’s secret now even if she wanted to. Detective Plasky would have heard that and he’d be honor bound to look into it.
Her heart clenched and she said a silent prayer for her sister. Veronica was on her own.
Ginny was now free to live her life for herself. It was both freeing and heart-wrenching.
“That’s no longer a concern of mine,” Ginny said.
Fedor regarded her. “Really.” It was a
comment, not a question. He knew Veronica was her Achilles’ heel. It’s how he roped her into the contract in the first place, so his disbelief was understandable.
“But my family’s business still is, so I’d like to renegotiate.” She waited a beat. “Please.”
The corners of his mouth quirked up at that added word. “Go on.” He stroked his chin and it was obvious he was humoring her. She didn’t care. He could think she was ridiculous all he wanted when he was behind bars.
“I want you to rebuild my family’s home.”
Fedor laughed. “Why would I do that?”
She leveled her gaze at him, wanting to see his reaction. “Because you’re responsible for its destruction.”
He paused for just a second before replying but gave nothing away. “What makes you say that?”
Time to try another tactic.
She leaned forward. “Please, Fedor, I need to know the truth. I’ve had some time to think about things and I think this could work between us, but no more lies. If I’m going to be your wife, you have to honest with me.”
He leveled his gaze at her. “What makes you think I still want to marry you?”
Ginny let out a sob, and it was only partially an act. If he didn’t still want to marry her, then she had no leverage. But if that was the case, then why did he bother to let her in?
The possible answer to that question scared the hell out of her.
Chapter 29
Tony clenched his jaw and his leg bobbed up and down.
“Relax,” Plasky said. If Plasky told him to relax one more time, he would punch him in his goddamn face.
“She shouldn’t be in there. It’s too dangerous.”
“She’s doing great.”
“You didn’t see her after he beat her,” Tony spat.
“I’ve seen it,” Plasky said flatly.
Tony glanced over at him. No doubt Plasky seen some bad shit in his years on the force, but damn, the memory of Ginny waiting for him at his front door, beaten and broken, flooded his mind and pulled at his soul. How could he let her go in there knowing that could be the result?
He wanted to take care of Barkov for her so she would never have to see that asshole again. But deep down he understood why she needed to face him herself—to free herself from her fear of him. That’s the only reason he stepped aside.
Right now, though, while she was in the thick of things, it was hard to remember that.
He heard Ginny sob over the speaker and he pounded his fists on the dash.
“Chill out,” Plasky said, “and give your girl some credit.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t give Ginny any credit—it was that he gave Barkov none. If that motherfucker laid one hand on her, Tony would kill him, pure and simple.
* * *
“You have to still want me.” Ginny’s voice trembled. She closed her eyes, visualizing everything bad that had happened to her in the past few days: the stone-cold look on Veronica’s face when Ginny confirmed the truth, her parents huddled as they watched their home burn, her mother’s paintings, destroyed and strewn about the driveway.
She didn’t have to fake the tears.
“Oh, my kotik,” Fedor said in a coddling tone. “If it means that much to you, I can let you make it up to me.”
She sniffed. “Really?”
“Of course, luybov moya. Women are weak. They make mistakes. You need a strong man to keep you on the right path.”
“You’d do that for me?” She nearly gagged on the words.
“For you, yes. And I’m sorry to hear your parents’ house has been destroyed. I hope they are okay.”
“They’re fine, but everything they own is gone. It’s horrible, Fedor, horrible. We need someone to help us. Someone strong, with resources.”
He preened, puffing up his chest slightly and Ginny fought off rolling her eyes. “You’ve come to the right place. Your family will soon be my family. I can’t let them suffer.”
“Oh, Fedor.” Ginny jumped up and rushed to his side, throwing her arms around him. “I was so angry at you at first, but then I started to miss you and realize what I was giving up.”
Fedor was surprised for a moment at the open show of affection—Ginny had never willfully done that in the past and had in fact gone to great lengths to avoid touching him at all. He recovered quickly and ran his hand down her back and over her ass.
“Of course, luybov moya. It pleases me that you’ve seen the error of your ways.”
Ginny pulled herself away and sat on her knees in front of him while he sat in his desk chair, looking up at him adoringly. “I have a confession to make. I’ve been spending time with an old friend.”
Fedor’s eyes darkened and his fist pounded on the desk. “The Adamo boy.”
Ginny nearly snorted at his description of Tony as a boy. Tony was more of a man than Fedor would ever be.
“Yes. It was a mistake. Such a mistake.” She forced herself to sound contrite. “But I’m glad it happened for two reasons.”
“Oh?”
She’d caught his attention. Good.
“It made me realize I wanted you.” She took his hand in hers and kissed it, pressing it to her cheek. “And the second—I learned some information that might help you.”
“What is that?”
“Are you in business with Santi Adamo?”
Fedor grunted. Damn. She needed a strong affirmative.
“Tony talked about this new deal his father was in. Said it would be very lucrative. He wouldn’t tell me who Santi’s partner was, only that this man was rich, powerful, and connected in ways that they weren’t. Since they’re pretty powerful—”
Fedor snorted. “They are not as powerful as they think.”
Ginny chuckled. “You’re right. They are only connected in one part of the city. Not like you.” She paused reverently. “Fedor, you are set up to rule the city, not just the north or the south side, but the entire city.”
Fedor leaned back in his chair. “This is true.”
“But I’m worried.”
“You are with me, now,” Fedor said. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Santi is going to ruin you.” Ginny took a deep breath. She was playing her trump card—the only one she had left. “I overheard him bragging about how he was going to switch the product with an inferior one and let you take the hit for it. Then he’d take the real High out on his own.”
Fedor stood abruptly, knocking Ginny sprawling on the ground. “Ya yego ub’yu! He thinks he can cross me! Yebat’ yego!”
Ginny scurried backward, fear blooming in her chest. It wasn’t a full confession, but it was the best she could do. God, she hoped it would be enough. Though, she hadn’t gotten the coded text from Plasky, she’d had enough. She could do no more.
Now for the hardest part—time to get out of there. It’d already been fifteen minutes, way longer than she’d wanted to stay.
Fedor glanced down, noticing her on the ground. He held his hand out to her. “My apologies, my kotik. You’ve brought me good information.”
She took his hand and he yanked her up, pulling her roughly against him.
“I will reward you handsomely,” Fedor said. He pressed his mouth to hers and grasped her breast, squeezing so hard it hurt.
Ginny couldn’t help it—she recoiled, but he held her firm.
“You have only partially redeemed yourself, luybov moya. Now it is time to pay the rest.”
Her heart thunked in her chest. I have to get out of here!
He gripped her ass with one hand and fondled her breast with the other while forcing his snake-like tongue into her mouth. The taste of cigars made her gag and she pushed against him, which forced his hand to shift.
And come into contact with the microphone.
He forcefully pushed her back, then gripped her upper arm with one hand. With his other hand, he yanked at her shirt, revealing the wire, the microphone, everything.
He shoved her away with a g
rowl, and she crashed into an end table. She scrambled to her feet and turned to face him.
She was so fucked.
* * *
“Fedor, please.” The panic in Ginny’s voice was clear over the radio. Blood rushed in Tony’s ears and he struggled to keep himself from jumping out of the car and scaling the wall surrounding Barkov’s compound.
It ripped at his soul to hear Ginny begging Barkov not to hurt her.
“We’re getting her out of there. Now.”
“Wait a second,” Plasky said. Tony wanted to deck him, cop or not.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“We need a plan. If we rush in with guns blazing, we could make it worse for her.”
Tony fought to maintain composure. Okay, I’ll give him exactly ten seconds to come up with a plan. If Plasky didn’t act, he would take him out, too, if he had to. Nothing would keep him from Ginny.
“No one turns on me!” Fedor roared. “Not even you, my kotik.” There was a loud scuffling and then the audio went silent.
Oh, fuck. Tony’s worst fear had come true—Ginny was at the mercy of Barkov and they had no clue what was even happening.
Plasky didn’t hesitate. He pulled the car away from the curb with a screech and didn’t hit the brakes until they were at Barkov’s gate. Personally, Tony would have rammed it. This was taking too much time. Barkov could be using his fists on Ginny right now and they were idling outside the gate.
Plasky flashed his badge to the guard. “Police. Open this gate. Now.”
The guard scrunched his eyebrows and replied in another language—sounded like Russian. He was playing stupid, using a supposed language barrier to delay them, probably notifying Barkov the police were at his door.
Fuck that.
Tony jumped out of the car and hopped on the hood, then easily scaled the gate.
“Stop!” the guard yelled after him.
Language barrier, my ass.
Tony raced up the long driveway past the Bentley Ginny had driven. On the porch, he couldn’t hear anything from the inside of the house and he remembered that Ginny was unable to keep Fedor near the front of the house as planned. He tried the knob, but it was locked. Fuck.
Hold You Close Page 25
