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“Why do you have my phone?” My eyes narrow accusingly. “Are you going to yank out my eyeball and cut off my thumb to get into it?”
“Is that really what you think of me?” Andrey frowns, tapping my phone in the palm of his hand.
“Isn’t that what you do?” I ask back.
“Only if the circumstances require it,” Andrey tells me coldly and clinically. He holds out his fall. “You can make one call only, but not to your father.”
“If I give you bail money, will you let me go?” I see him shake his head slowly in reference to me being jailed in his penthouse—Crime: Giving Andrey Belov my virginity.
“Funny,” Andrey says. “Make your call, princess.”
He leans back against the railing, watching me, looking like he has no intention of giving me any privacy.
“Do you mind?” I ask him, and he raises his eyebrows curiously. “A bit of privacy!”
“Sorry, but I can’t do that,” Andrey tells me. “So, make your call. You have ten minutes.” He glances at his wristwatch. “Starting now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I gape at him. “I have no privacy and a time limit?”
“Nine minutes,” Andrey ignores my outrage and ticks off another minute.
I turn my back on him, walk to the opposite end of the balcony, and dial Stacy’s number. It rings three times, and she answers.
“Isabella, where the fuck are you?” Stacy asks. She sounds like she’s whispering, and I can barely hear her through all the noise in the background.
“Where the fuck did you go?” I lower my voice and hiss at her. “Thanks to you, I’ve landed right in enemy territory.”
“What?” Stacy asks, confused. There’s a pause. “Izzy, are you in trouble? Have you been kidnapped?” Another pause. I can see Stacy posing like a little meerkat as she starts to go through possible scenarios. “Oh no! Is it James or your father?” Another quick pause. “Shit, it’s not Genevra, is it?”
“No, none of those,” I tell her. “Where are you?”
“I snuck back into the Velvet Lounge looking for you,” Stacy tells me.
“What do you mean snuck back in?” My eyes narrow suspiciously.
“Well, I’m kinda banned from the place, and the bouncers saw me…” Stacy starts to explain.
“You should’ve told me that!” I growl. “God, we could’ve gone straight to Vegas.”
“I know how much you wanted to go there,” Stacy tells me. “Where are you?”
“Not there anymore,” I tell her.
I hear Andrey clear his throat, and I turn to see him tapping his expensive wristwatch. I suddenly have the urge to rip it off his wrist and fling it off the balcony.
“I have to go, Stace,” I say. “I’ll call you soon.”
Before I say goodbye, the phone is rudely snatched from my hand, and the call is cut.
“Rude!” I turn and glare at him. “How fucking dare you?”
“I think you’ve had enough time to alert your friend to your whereabouts,” Andrey tells her and starts to fiddle with her phone.
“What are you doing?” I look at him in disbelief.
“Just changing your passcode setting so I don’t have to take out your eyeball or cut off your thumb,” Andrey tells me with a grin.
“You can’t do that!” I try to grab my phone, but he pulls it out of my reach.
