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Is it Jake roughly hauling me to safety?
“Ana! I’m—” I hear Kina’s voice before the sound of a whack silences her.
The hand over my mouth slackens so I turn my head to see that the man holding me has sandy brown hair and not the bald head of Jake. The certainty that a dangerous stranger is pulling me away from my bodyguards hits me like a punch.
I wiggle and bite, but his grip is relentless. He slams his hand even harder on my mouth. My teeth cut into my lips. With the taste of blood comes a rush of anger. Fury and panic fuel me to keep thrashing and fighting.
Out of nowhere, there’s another man in front of me wearing Petrov Shipping gear, overalls with bright-yellow reflective accents. From this distance and in my state, I can’t process the details of his face.
I would recognize most of the people who work in the testing facilities and assembly areas, having been hands-on with this project for two years. My legs and arms flail, making clear that I’m trapped. Will this man help me, or is he working with my captor? Approaching, familiar brown eyes fill my vision. Familiar and ferocious.
“Hello, Anastasia,” he says with a spiteful cackle. His hand reaches out to my neck and I feel a pinch, like a bee sting.
Everything goes black.
I’m shaken awake by erratic driving and screeching tires.
It’s dark in the vehicle, but the shape of the trees whizzing by are highlighted. The windows must be tinted, preventing daylight from entering the vehicle.
If there’s still sunlight outside, I haven’t been unconscious for very long. My eyes continue to prickle with remnants of the smoke. Even fuzzier is my brain, which takes too long to gather information.
I’m facing the back of a large space. This must be one of those gigantic SUV limousines. Two muscled men squeeze my shoulders from each side. Crowding me. Leering at me. My hands are tied together over my lap.
I’m being kidnapped.
All this time, when I didn’t take the threat seriously, I had been wrong. Dammit, I hate admitting that the paranoid men in my life are right.
“This wasn’t how I imagined our first meeting,” the man with strangely familiar eyes says from across the cavernous space. “But you just had to be a pain in the ass, didn’t you?”
“Go to hell,” I bark. “Did you fucking bomb my shipyard?” My own voice feels like a hammer in my head, my words somewhat slurred.
He chuckles. “Your shipyard. That’s such an entitled Petrov thing to say,” he sneers.
“You didn’t have to hurt people to get to me,” I say, eyes stinging at the thought of Kina and Jake, Martin and the workers, all those innocent people caught in the crossfire.
“Maybe at one point, yes. You were never hard to get to. But then you had to go hire personal bodyguards. That was a bad idea.”
His phone rings, and he reads the screen.
“What perfect timing,” he answers.
Someone talks on the other end before my kidnapper says the last thing I expect.
“Hello, Bryce.”
“What the fuck!” Bryce’s angry growl fills the vehicle’s interior. “Who are you?”
“Bryce!” I screech as loud as I can. “Bryce! They took me! Kina and Jake, they’re hurt.” A hand clamps around my face, covering my mouth and nose so it’s difficult to take in air. I kick my legs and wiggle my shoulders until my chest constricts, gasping for oxygen.
“Ana!” Bryce’s voice, even from the other end of the line, is louder than the words of the man in front of me.
“Who am I, you ask? I’m the man who has the pleasure of Anastasia Petrov’s company. Lucky me. I would have left her alone, if it wasn’t for you nosing around, you know that? So, to be honest, this is all your fault.”
He pauses to take in whatever Bryce says.
“I don’t plan to hurt her, but I do have some demands.”
Pause. I shake my head to clear it and focus. I’ve never met this man before, but why does he look vaguely familiar?
