Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Sara,” Peter prompts when I don’t answer, and I shrug in response, not inclined to soothe his conscience by admitting that I feel better after my long nap. The effects of the drug must’ve fully worn off, because the nausea and the headache that tormented me are gone.
I am hungry and thirsty, though, so I reach for the bottle of water and the bowl of peanuts sitting on the small table between our seats.
“We’ll have a real meal soon,” Peter says, pushing the bowl toward me. “We weren’t expecting to leave the country so suddenly, and this is all we had on board.”
“Uh-huh.” Not meeting his eyes, I gulp down half of the water bottle, eat a handful of nuts, and wash them down with the rest of the water. I’m not surprised to hear about the lack of food on the plane; the wonder is that he had a plane on standby, period. I know he and his team get paid ridiculous sums of money to assassinate crime lords and such, but the cost of this mid-sized jet must be well into eight figures.
Unable to contain my curiosity, I glance at my captor. “Is this yours?” I wave a hand to indicate our surroundings. “Did you buy it?”
“No.” He closes the laptop and smiles. “I got it as payment from one of our clients.”
“I see.” I look away, focusing on the dark sky outside the window instead of that magnetic smile. Now that I’m feeling better, I’m even more bitterly aware of what Peter has done—and how hopeless my situation is.
If I was at my tormentor’s mercy at home, where I was afraid of what might happen if I went to the authorities, I’m now doubly so. Peter Sokolov can do anything to me, keep me captive until I die if he’s so inclined. His men won’t help me, and I’m about to enter a country where I don’t speak the language and don’t know anything or anyone.
I love sushi, but that’s as far as my familiarity with Japan extends.
“Sara?” Peter’s deep voice cuts into my thoughts, and I instinctively turn to look at him.
“Buckle up.” He nods toward the seatbelt lying unfastened at my side. “We’ll be landing shortly.”
I pull the seatbelt over my lap before turning my attention back to the window. I can’t see much in the darkness—we must’ve flown long enough for it to be night in Japan despite the time difference—but I keep my eyes on the sky outside, both in the hopes of seeing something and out of the desire to avoid conversing with Peter.
I’m not going to act like we really are lovers going on a trip, to pretend that I’m okay with this in any shape or form. The leverage he had over me—his threat to steal me away if I didn’t play along with his domestic bliss fantasy—is gone, and I have no intention of being his compliant victim again. I was beginning to give in, to fall under his twisted spell, but that’s all over now. Peter Sokolov tortured me and killed my husband, and now he’s kidnapped me. There’s nothing between us except a fucked-up past and an even more fucked-up future.
He might have me, but he won’t enjoy it.
I’ll make sure of that.
4
Peter
My cheekbone still smarts from Sara’s blow as we land at a private airport near Matsumoto and transfer to the helicopter waiting for us there. I’ll have a black eye tomorrow—an idea I find amusing now that the initial shock of anger is past. The pain Sara inflicted is minor—I’ve suffered worse in routine training—but the unexpectedness of my pretty little doctor physically lashing out is what got to me.
It was like being scratched bloody by a kitten, one you just want to cuddle and protect.
She’s still angry with me. It’s obvious in her rigid posture, in the way she doesn’t speak to me or even glance my way as the helicopter takes off. Though it’s still dark, I see her staring at the sights below, and I know she’s trying to memorize where we’re going.
She’ll attempt to escape at the earliest opportunity, I can tell.
Anton pilots the chopper, and Ilya sits in the back with me and Sara while Yan is up front. We’re not expecting any trouble, but we’re armed, so I keep a careful eye on Sara to make sure she doesn’t do anything foolish, like trying to grab a gun from me or Ilya.
Given the mood she’s in, I wouldn’t put anything past her.
Our Japanese safe house is located in the sparsely populated, mountainous Nagano Prefecture, at the very peak of a steep, heavily forested mountain overlooking a small lake. On a clear day, the view is breathtaking, but the main reason I acquired the property is that this particular mountaintop is only accessible by air. There used to be a dirt road on the west slope—that’s how a wealthy Tokyo businessman built his summer home up there back in the nineties—but an earthquake-triggered landslide made the slope into a cliff, cutting off all ground access to the property and destroying its value.