One year later

Ivan’s baby blue eyes flick towards me, full of apology, as he focuses most of his attention on the phone pressed against his ear.

My eyes meet his and I keep expecting to feel something. To feel something more than this coldness that seeps inside of me.

Whoever he’s listening to must say something to make him angry because his eyes narrow, no longer focusing on me, and he speaks sharply in Russian.

Honestly, I don’t care that he has a phone call. Anything that pulls his attention away from me is a welcome relief.

I just want this stupid date to be over with.

Glancing down at my salad, I stab a piece of romaine lettuce a little more forcibly than required and push it into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

Ivan continues to speak rapidly in Russian and I don’t understand a word he’s saying except for the name Lucifer.

I never considered Ivan the religious type. In fact, I’m pretty sure the guy is a ruthless, heartless criminal who would sell his own mother if given half a chance. But more and more often lately, I keep hearing that name.

Has Ivan suddenly taken up faith?

It doesn’t seem likely. Something else must be going on… Something that is pissing Ivan off.

Dropping my fork, I push my plate away and pick up my glass of wine. Slowly, my eyes glide over the room, taking in the upscale restaurant he brought me to. The décor is exquisite. Everything is done in white, gold, and sparkling crystal.

The clientele is impeccable; we’re surrounded by the crème de la crème of Garden City. I recognize the mayor, a few A-list actors, and a rising pop star.

Everyone is dressed like they’re ready to hit the red carpet or something—including the man sitting across from me.

Ivan looks like he just stepped off the cover of a magazine in his dark charcoal gray suit and blue silk tie. His suit jacket is unbuttoned, and he leans back in his chair. He is easily the most attractive man in the room, and it’s done effortlessly.

He’s beautiful, one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid eyes on with his short, white blonde hair, and baby blue eyes. His bone structure is flawless. Sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, and soft, kissable lips.

But his beauty does nothing but leave me feeling empty. No matter how hard I try to connect with him the connection just isn’t there.

Sipping my wine, I know I should be flattered that a man like him is interested in a girl like me. And in the beginning, I was flattered… but no longer.

I’ve glimpsed the monster behind the beautiful mask and now I can’t unsee it.

Two shadows move behind Ivan and I drink deeper.

I’m totally fucked and I don’t know how to get myself out of this mess. Those two shadows are guarding Ivan’s back, and I know there are at least two more at each exit. I could try to slip away, but even if I do succeed, what about Abigail?

My heart starts to race and I quickly have to shut down my panic. Freaking out will only make this worse.

So what if I don’t have an excuse tonight to keep him out of my bed? Maybe it won’t even come to that…

Ivan’s rapid Russian slows and his blue eyes focus once more on me. He watches me drain the remaining wine in my glass and makes a motion with his hand. A waiter lingering beside the table rushes forward, refilling my glass before I even get it back down to the table.

Ivan’s soft lips spread into a pleased smile and he picks up his glass of vodka, cheering me before tipping it back.

His eyes never leave my face as he drinks, and I know he expects me to join him. I also know that if I refuse the invitation that it will most likely make him angry… so I pick up my glass and tip it back.

Ivan drains his glass and the waiter steps forward to refill it but Ivan waves him away. I finish off half of my glass, feeling the warm buzz of alcohol warming my belly before I set it down on the table gently.

Ivan motions for the waiter to refill my glass for me.

Clenching my teeth together, I watch the waiter top my glass off and my cheeks burn with heat.

So it’s come to this? He’s resorting to getting me drunk so he can finally sleep with me…

Lifting my glass, I drain down the wine, drinking deeply. I need the alcohol’s false courage to fortify me so I can make it through this night.

Ivan smirks and his eyes warm as he watches me.

He’s been trying to sleep with me for weeks now, and I’m not sure how I’m going to blow him off tonight. I’m running out of excuses.

How did my life come to this? Dreading the affections of such a man…

I bet half the women in this room would probably give their left tit to sleep with him.

They can have them if they want him.

I fucking hate him.

Eight weeks ago, Ivan walked into my life, and I wish he would have walked right back out of it. He walked into my work, a little clothing boutique downtown, looking for a present for his sister. Shamelessly, he flirted with me the entire time I helped him pick out a scarf. And given that he’s so damn handsome, I was immediately taken with him.

I was over the moon when he returned the next week, and the week after that.

When he asked me out on a date, it was like a dream come true.

He’s rich, beautiful, and powerful. And for those first couple of weeks, I wondered if I had somehow stepped into a fairy tale. He lavished me with expensive gifts and took me out to expensive restaurants. He even gifted me an entire new designer wardrobe.

But after a while, it was becoming very apparent that he expected me to repay him for the favors.

That was when the illusion started to fade for me. I began to notice his perfection was flawed. All the little things became more apparent. Still, I tried to return his affection, up to a point, but he always wanted more.

He demanded it.

I tried to break things off. I even attempted to return everything he ever gifted me, but he’s a man who refuses to accept the word no.

After the first night I refused him, I started to notice strange men following me to work. They’d linger outside the boutique during my shift, keeping tabs on me and everyone I interacted with.

At night, Ivan would show up at my door, questioning me about my day, and becoming more and more obsessive. I became afraid, and even looked into a restraining order, but all that did was piss him off and show me just how powerful he truly is…

Ivan speaks a few clipped words into his phone and then hangs up. Tucking the phone into his pocket, he leans forward and grabs my hand.

I resist the urge to pull my hand away. Something about his touch makes my skin crawl.

“My apologies, myshka,” he purrs, fingers wrapping around me tightly. “But that was a very important call.”

I nod my head and set my empty glass down on the table. Ivan nods towards the glass and the waiter steps forward, refilling it once more.

Ivan pulls my hand towards him and then lifts it to his mouth, lips tenderly brushing across my knuckles.

For a moment, I wonder what is wrong with me. Something inside of me must be broken. This beautiful man is bestowing his affections upon me but I find his touch repulsive. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring myself to enjoy it.

Neither his beauty nor his money can make up for all his horrible faults.

He’s controlling, and aggressive when he gets angry. He hurt me the last time I refused to let him through my apartment door. He shoved me into the damn wall and pulled out a chunk of my hair in front of my daughter Abigail.

I’m trapped. The best I can do right now is try to make him happy so he doesn’t kill me…

I try to pull my hand away from Ivan’s mouth and his fingers tighten around me, squeezing painfully.

I endure the compression for as long as I can before a yelp slips past my lips.

Ivan’s eyes flash and then he grins as if I’ve somehow pleased him. His grip relaxes and I let my hand drop to the table before trying to pull it back.

I watch him warily until I have my hand safely in my own lap.

Leaning back, he flicks his fingers at his empty glass and his vodka is refilled immediately.

“Amy…” he purrs huskily.

Rubbing my hand beneath the table cloth, I make my expression as neutral as possible. “Yes?”

“Finish your drink.”

Inside, I’m fuming. Reaching out, I grab my drink and it takes every ounce of self-control I have to keep from tossing it in his smirking face. He lifts his own glass and sips from it while watching me.

I bring my glass to my mouth and my stomach twists as I sip. Already, the wine is sour on my tongue and the warm buzz has become an annoying after-effect.

Our eyes meet over the rims of our glasses. His bore into mine like icy daggers until I finish the wine off completely. The glass empty, I’m afraid to set it back down on the table, afraid he’ll order the waiter to refill it.

I lean back, keeping the empty glass in my grip.

Smirk sharpening, Ivan snaps his fingers and a body peels away from the shadows, one of his beefy bodyguards coming forward. Murmured words are exchanged between the two before a long, black velvet box is produced.

My eyes fall upon the box and I’m filled with dread and trepidation. Another gift? Please no…

Setting his glass down on the table, Ivan rises and approaches me, the box in his hand.

Watching him approach, I shake my head. “Ivan… You shouldn’t have…”

Seriously, he shouldn’t have. Every gift he’s ever given me he’s used to force some kind of repayment out of me. In the beginning it was sweet, he would only ask for another date.

More recently though it’s become a kiss while his hands try to fondle me…

He plucks the empty glass from my hand and sets it on the table. Immediately the waiter comes forward and refills it.

“Ah, but I must, my myshka. Tonight is a special night, and I want you to remember it always.”

Bending over me, he snaps the box open in front of my eyes. I blink at all the diamonds, their dazzling sparkles almost blinding me.

“It’s too much… I can’t possibly accept it,” I protest softly as he lifts the strands of diamonds from the box.

Ivan clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he wraps the strands around my neck. “It’s only a trinket.”

“A trinket?” I repeat incredulously. The three strands are completely covered in diamonds, and I know they must be worth thousands.

“Yes,” he says, his breath tickling my ear. “Only a trinket. When you give me my heir then I will present you with proper jewels.”

Heir? What the fuck? This is the first I’m hearing of this…

Ivan buries his face in my hair and breathes in deep.

I shudder, wanting to rip the diamonds off of my neck.

“Come,” he says, pulling away and grabbing me by my sore hand.

“Where are we going?” I ask, trying not to panic as he pulls me to my feet.

His arm wraps around my waist, bringing me close. “It’s time to retire for the evening.”

I shake my head and glance around, searching for an escape.

My eyes fall upon the table. “But I didn’t even get to finish my drink…”

Ivan tips his head back, chuckling. Reaching around me, he grabs my glass and hands it to me. “Here, you can finish on the way.”

Pushing the glass into my hand, I have no choice but to accept it. He gives me a pointed look until I lift the glass to my lips and drink.

Fuck it. If I have to endure this, I might as well be drunk.

Neck arching back, I drain the wine completely as he guides me. His fingers flex around my hip protectively and he leads me to the back of the restaurant, through the kitchen, and to a door that opens to the back alley.

He has some silly rule about never leaving through the front.

I set the empty glass on a counter before we pass through the back door, stepping into the night. Ivan’s black limo is idling and the chauffeur holds the back door open for us.

Ivan pauses for a moment, looking towards the two bodyguards in the alley before dragging me forward. We take three steps and then Ivan tenses beside me.

Dropping my hand, he whirls around, and everything happens so fast I’m not sure what is happening.

Ivan crumbles to the ground and one of his bodyguards approaches me.

For a hysterical moment, I want to thank the bodyguard for knocking out Ivan but then the man grabs me. His hand slaps over my mouth and my lips are stuck together, I can’t move them.

I gaze up at the bodyguard, my eyes wide and watering as I scream behind the tape in panic.

His face hardens and then the world goes black.

As the black silk hood settles over my head and two strong arms lift me up, I can’t help but feel a little relieved…

How fucked up is that?