There wasn’t a lock that Bazarnik couldn’t pick and this one was no different. He’d learned a long time ago that if you wanted to learn someone’s deepest secrets, all you had to do was break into their home. The mysteries revealed themselves in subtle ways, but they were always there if you just looked hard enough.

Things like photos, trinkets, jewelry, even clothing revealed a lot about a person. One simply needed intuition. His ability to read people had served him well throughout the years. He would need it now more than ever. He refused to fail his team or his Pakhan.

Tatiana never felt the prick of the needle. While she slept in peace, he searched her room. The first thing to catch his eye told him a great deal about the stranger. He picked up the Matryoshka or Babushka doll as they were sometimes called—a Russian nesting doll. He studied the piece and knew enough about it to realize it was of fine quality and quite rare. Its beauty caused a stirring in his heart for his homeland.

The doll was small but had sixteen pieces nestling together in a perfect fit. China blue designs were intricately woven around lush, green leaves and golden hands accented by a golden scarf. Blue eyes with long eyelashes were painted on with perfection. Someone had taken a great deal of care in making this doll. The nesting dolls were often called Matryoshka dolls which translated as ‘little mother’ because the larger dolls held their babies inside just like expectant mothers. The larger meaning was that each daughter eventually became a mother in her own right, with the largest doll viewed as the grandmother.

He looked over to the sleeping woman and studied her as he went through her wallet. Tatiana. Pretty name. There was no doubt in his mind his sleeping beauty was Russian. What the hell was a Russian woman doing breathing the same air as those filthy assholes at the Sinaloan dogfight? She wasn’t part of the cartel. She wasn’t involved with Bratva that he knew of. What was her story?

Before he could change his mind, he wrapped the doll in a bundle of soft clothes and tucked it inside a duffel bag, then zipped it up and pulled the strap across his chest. No doubt the doll set had sentimental value to the girl. In fact, it appeared to the one of her few possessions.

Before tonight she’d been an enemy, but finding out she was Russian changed all that. In fact, her entire life had changed, she just didn’t know it yet.

The five of them stood silently in front of the cell like it was an exhibit at the zoo, peering curiously through the bars at the beautiful stranger Bazarnik had brought back with him. She was clad only in the t-shirt and yoga pants she had been wearing when she was taken from her home several hours earlier. Oleg, Roksana, Dmitriy, Anastasia, and Bazarnik stared down at the girl, saying nothing, each occupying their own quiet space inside their head.

Roksana spoke first. “This changes everything, Bazarnik. That girl is Russian, there’s no doubt in my mind. I can tell by her features, her bone structure, and even that nesting doll. I’m telling you, it’s a sign. All of it.”

Oleg chuckled. “So, you’re jumping on board with your father and Natasha now? You know, how the Bratva gods brought her to us...”

“I’m telling you, it isn’t a coincidence that she was brought here. And you,” she turned, directing her attention to Bazarnik, “you have an obligation to protect her now. She’s one of our own. We stick together, Russians don’t kill Russians unless there’s betrayal. I’ll have no part of killing this girl if she doesn’t meet that protocol. In the meantime, she’s yours to protect from harm. But she doesn’t need to know that yet, of course.”

“She’s right,” Oleg concurred. He looked up to see Anastasia and Dmitriy nodding their heads in agreement.

Roksana felt the need to reinforce her statement. “We don’t leave our own behind and we damn sure don’t kill our own. You find out what she knows and report back to us. But remember, she’s your property now. Now, I’m going to take the dogs for a walk. Take your time here, we’ll keep both dogs with us until you’re freed up,” she said with a nod toward their unexpected guest. “They may have fought in the pit together last week, but they’ve really bonded now that they’re not being forced to fight to the death for a bunch of greedy assholes. They seem to know it wasn’t personal, they were trying to survive. They just needed some love.”

“Don’t we all,” Bazarnik muttered, his eyes lingering on the woman in the cell.

Roksana looked quizzically between Bazarnik and his guest, shook her head, and ascended the steps with the others following behind her.

It was settled, then; the woman was Russian and, therefore, one of their own. Of course, they would find out what her story was eventually, but all were relieved to know she wasn’t part of the Sinaloan cartel, at the very least. There had been enough bloodshed.

Bazarnik waited until they were gone to go into the cell and undress her. He couldn’t understand why he didn’t want anyone to see her naked, or why his hands trembled as he removed each article of clothing. She was nothing to him. It shouldn’t matter. But it did. As her creamy skin was revealed to him, inch by lovely inch, he knew he wouldn’t allow anyone else to see her this way. Only him.

If she was indeed Russian, that would provide her with some degree of favor, but it didn’t change the fact that he was going to interrogate her—while still protecting her. But it would be a delicate balance to strike and he still wasn’t sure how to approach it.

He looked at her closely for the first time as she lay on the small bed in the corner of the cell. He placed a finger along her jugular. His cock thickened at the power that surged through him as her blood flowed so close to his own flesh. Being that close to the blood that sustained her body was a heady experience. He trailed his finger along her collarbone, then held his hand aloft, only an inch or two above her breast. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off her flesh, but not close enough to touch. He pulled his hand away and let his now clenched fist rest at his side.

She was stunning in a natural sort of way. Glossy strands of long, chestnut brown hair cascaded over the pillow and onto the floor. He still hadn’t seen her eyes open, but he could only imagine them being blue. Her nipples were the palest shade of pink he’d ever seen. He wondered whether they’d be darker after being sucked and bitten. Protectiveness, even stronger than the arousal she evoked, flooded his body and mind. The foreign feeling set his nerves on edge.

He placed a blanket over her and left the cell, locking it before he lowered himself into the recliner he’d brought down so he could stay with her and be relatively comfortable. He could hardly expect her to relax around him if he didn’t spend quality time with her. He wanted to keep her under his watchful eye. Even though she was safe here, he didn’t want her forming an attachment to anyone else – only him.

He wondered if she had been in the country long and if she had the proper paperwork; he found himself hoping she did. If she didn’t, of course, the Pakhan would fix it. If she did have them it would be one less thing to worry about, yes, but it would also mean she had connections. And that only piqued his curiosity even more.

He stretched out, extending the recliner so it laid all the way back. Then he let sleep take over. Tomorrow would be a long day. They would both need their rest.