When I woke up, my head was throbbing, and my body was shaking with chills. This wasn’t just a hangover, I realized immediately. And when I thought back to the previous night… There were huge gaps in my memory, I realized. I remembered going to Ritmo, and I remembered Alexei’s eyes on me. I remembered dancing.

But I didn’t remember ending up here, wherever here was.

I swallowed hard, looking around at the warehouse. I tried to move but found that I couldn’t, tied to the chair as I was. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

This couldn’t be Alexei’s work, could it? Surely he hadn’t been so angry at me the previous night that he’d… That he’d kidnap me and tie me up in some warehouse?

No, that wasn’t Alexei’s style.

Alexei’s anger, when it was awakened, was hot and quick. He didn’t play games, and he didn’t draw things out. He had a fiery temper, and it had gotten him into more than a couple fistfights back in Russia. He wouldn’t have kidnapped me; he would have yelled at me right there in the middle of the club, or else he would have hit where he knew it would hurt me the most. He would have found his own girl to go home with last night.

No, whatever I had screwed up with Alexei, this wasn’t his style.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember the rest of the night. But I kept coming up blank. There had to be drugs involved at some point, I realized. Someone had spiked my drink; that would explain the shivering, hollow feeling inside of me. That would explain the gaps in my memory, the fact that I couldn’t remember ending up here.

And if it wasn’t Alexei’s fault that I had ended up here… Well, there was no one who knew where I was. No one in the city knew what I’d gotten up to that night; Alexei had left Ritmo before I had. That much, I remembered. There was a possibility that one of his cousins might have kept an eye on me as the night wore on, but if I had willingly left with someone, it’s not like they would have stopped me or asked where I was going with him.

I swallowed hard, the bleak nature of my situation really beginning to set in.

Not only was there no one in Barcelona who knew where I was, but after the stunt I’d pulled the night before, there was no one in this city who would care that I was missing—besides my father, but he was older and had never really had a taste for violence. He might be involved in certain deals with the mob, but that didn’t mean he was going to storm some warehouse with guns blazing, looking for his kidnapped daughter. Nor would Evgeni spare his own men for something like that, I didn’t think.

Alexei certainly wouldn’t come after me; he had already shown that clearly the night before. I swallowed hard, thinking back to my behavior in the club. I could rationalize my actions all I wanted: I had been hurt, I had been angry, I had been confused. Things between Alexei and I hadn’t been easy and clear-cut for a long time. But that didn’t give me any reason to humiliate him in front of his cousins like that.

And what had I expected to gain from going home with some random guy?

I sighed and shifted as much as I could given the ropes binding me to the chair. Whatever I’d expected, it certainly hadn’t been this.

Sometimes, I honestly wished I could go back to when Alexei left Russia. What if things had been different then? What if I had come with him to Barcelona, or what if we had gotten married and he had refused to leave St. Petersburg?

I’d been through these scenarios a dozen times, and they never had any sort of happy conclusion. I hadn’t left St. Petersburg because I hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Volkov family mob on their home ground in Barcelona. Alexei hadn’t stayed with me in St. Petersburg because he hadn’t wanted to lose his entire family, and they would have shunned him if he’d refused to do his part for the family. It would have been an act of disloyalty of the highest measure, as far as they were concerned.

But sometimes, I could almost picture it.

I didn’t know what Alexei’s place looked like here in Barcelona, but I knew he had money, thanks to the deals he’d made over the years. He probably lived in some opulent, sprawling estate on the beach. In the mornings, we’d have made love in our bed as sea-breezes wafted through the open balcony doors. There would have been breakfasts in bed—fresh fruit and the tastes of home. We would have explored the city together, and gone for long walks on the beach.

And I didn’t think either one of us would have been happy.

I sighed and shook my head. That was the crux of it, really. We both belonged in our life back in Petersburg. I just hadn’t been able to convince Alexei of that.

The door swung open, and two dark figures stalked into the warehouse, making their way through the clutter to where I was sitting. I was surprised to see Alexei there—closely followed by Estevan, the Spaniard from the club the previous night.

“Yup, this is her,” Alexei said, scowling at me before I could find my voice. “My stupid little sister, Yulia.”

I blinked at the pointed way that he said that. If only my mind didn’t feel quite so sluggish—again, after-effects of whatever they’d drugged me with, I was sure.

Estevan looked between the two of us, a frown on his face. “Fuck off, this isn’t your sister,” he said narrowing his eyes. “I want proof,” he said. “Your word doesn’t mean anything to me, Russian.”

“Fair enough,” Alexei said, pulling out his state-of-the-art cellphone. “Here’s a picture of Yulia here and I when we were children, at one of our family reunions. As you can see, she never really grew into those ears of hers.”

Estevan laughed when he saw it, and I felt my face heat up in a brilliant blush. I knew exactly which picture Alexei must be showing the Spaniard; it had been in one of my mother’s old albums, and Alexei had seen it one day back when we were living together. He had teased me mercilessly about how far my ears stuck out from my hair—but later, I’d found that he’d carefully removed the photo from the album and framed it for our mantle. An early piece of our history, he’d told me when I’d asked about it.

I was surprised that he still had a copy of the photo on his phone.

I was still surprised that he was here at all, let alone covering for me like this. But then again, that was probably just business. Estevan had mentioned something about the arms deal; I’m sure the Volkov family was worried about what information this guy would get out of me.

I stared at Estevan for a long moment, trying to figure out who he must be. He didn’t hold himself like someone from the military or the police. And with his weasel face, I had a feeling he was just another gang member. I tried to remember what I knew about gangs here in Barcelona. There wasn’t much, but I remembered some mention of Audaz, the Volkov family’s rivals for territory in the city.

I grimaced, realizing I must have walked right into some sort of trap somehow. Or else I’d just been majorly unlucky, somehow.

I sighed and shook my head. I never should have left St. Petersburg. I should have known I would get into trouble here.

But Estevan finally nodded at Alexei. “I apologize for my confusion,” he finally said, moving behind me and cutting the ropes that bound me.

“You’re letting me go?” I asked in surprise. “Just like that?”

Estevan sneered at me. “As much as I’d like to screw you again, I don’t think your brother would appreciate the show,” he said, pushing me roughly towards Alexei.

Alexei looked like he wanted to fight the other man, but he wisely held his tongue, grabbing my wrist and tugging me along. “He has better things to do,” he said airily as he led me away.

I stumbled along with him, struggling to keep up with his longer legs and quick pace. But he didn’t slow down for me; instead, he just dragged me along, until I was breathless.

I didn’t protest, though: I didn’t want to stick around waiting for Estevan to change his mind.

We stumbled out onto the sidewalk, and Alexei expertly led me down the street and into the subway. Soon enough, we were being whisked off across the city. We rode in silence, but I couldn’t keep from watching Alexei. He was obviously still shaken by the whole incident, his face pale. He kept looking nervously around, like he expected other members of Audaz to jump out at any point and take both of us hostage.

Finally, we reached our station, and Alexei led the way out into the sunshine, his grip still too-tight on my wrist. Still, I never said a word.

He turned to face me, cupping my cheek with his palm. “Don’t you ever do something that stupid again.”

I nodded, still wordless in my gratitude.