Indebted to the Mafia King

*Tatiana*

I feel like I must've gotten run over by a truck. My head is pounding so hard, I feel like vomiting, but even so, I force my eyes to open. There's no light here except for a dim stream coming through a tiny window near the top of the wall in front of me, so it's difficult for my eyes to adapt.

There are strands of hair in front of my eyes and face, and when I lift my hand to push them aside, I realize my wrists are tied behind my back in what feels like a very thick, tight rope. My legs are also strapped to the chair, both my ankles tied. I can barely

move.

Panic starts creeping through me as I realize what's going on. Images of the recent events flash through my mind, making me remember how I ended up here, wherever I

am.

I look from one side to the other, taking in my surroundings. Even though it's dark and humid here, I spot some tools and boxes that make me think this has to be a basement. The place is quiet, and there seems to be no one around, although I doubt they'd leave me here alone, unwatched and unguarded. I can't get out of here, after all. Not even the lessons I learned from Lev can help me get free of these fucking knots around my wrists. They're so tight that struggling against them cuts off the circulation to my hands.

"Shit," I hiss to myself, uncomfortably moving in my seat.

My head is pounding, and my stomach twists, reminding me I haven't had much to eat today. With all the wedding preparations, I didn't eat much before the ceremony. And then everything else happened. Whatever that guy used to knock me out has left me nauseated.

I rack my brain to remember what he said to me. He mentioned something before he knocked me unconscious.

"I have some questions for you. I hope you like Upstate New York."

Well, if he had asked me politely, I'd tell him that I have nothing to tell him. Whatever it is he thinks I might be able to help him with, he's wrong because I know nothing. Does he even know who I am? What could they possibly want from me?

All of a sudden, my life's turned into a cat-and-mouse chase that I can't seem to break free of. Why has everyone decided I'm the best person in the universe to fucking kidnap? First Oleg, now this guy...whoever the fuck he is.

Bastard! My mind returns to those twinkling eyes, that bright smile, that strong jawline, as he cruelly knocked me out. Why is it that the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on is also the one to take me hostage? I shake my head, shoving those thoughts aside. What is this... Fucking Stocholm Syndrome?

As if someone's heard my thoughts, a creaking metal sound to my right makes me turn just in time to see the door opening and a shadow coming through. I recognize the form immediately.

"Ah, you're finally awake." That low, raspy voice reaches my ears, and I instantly tense up. Fear mingles with curiosity, coiling in my stomach, and trying to slip lower, but I won't let it. I'm not one of those fucking idiots who falls in love with their kidnapper.

His firm footsteps echo through the room as he approaches me, and when he crosses the stream of light coming through the window, I'm able to see his face. Just as I suspected, it's the same guy who knocked me out.

And he is just as hot as I remembered.

His cold aura compels me to keep staring at him, forcing me to study his every movement. He's wearing the same black outfit, only now he's taken off the jacket, his short-sleeved shirt revealing his sculpted biceps and an anchor tattooed to his forearm.

His jaw is clenched, and judging by his countenance, I'd say this man has probably never smiled in his entire life. His brown eyes roam my face, and now that he's close enough, I can see his hair is no longer perfectly styled back. Whatever styling product he used earlier has failed him, allowing the curls to fall softly over his eyebrows, giving him an even sexier, mysterious aura. Fucker.

He clears his throat, bending forward so his gaze is level with mine, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Now, I can finally get some information from her," he says, a grin forming on his lips. His soft, warm, inviting lips....

Shut the fuck up, Tatiana!

"Are you going to tell me your name, or will I have to extract it from you?" he adds, standing up again and crossing his arms over his muscled chest.

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I fight the urge to frown. So, he doesn't know who I am. Or maybe he has an idea of who I am, since he must have seen me at the wedding, but he doesn't know my name. Which makes me assume he isn't sure I'm the person he needs.

I press my lips together, forcing them to remain shut, remembering everything Lev taught me about self-defense and how to behave if I ever got caught and taken for interrogation.noveldrama

I won't give in. I won't tell him a thing. He'll have to fucking drag it from my dying lips.

I have no idea who he is or why he thought he needed to kidnap me, but I can't trust him.

I can't trust anyone.

I should be thankful he managed to get me out of Oleg's clutches, but I can't be grateful if I don't know what his plans are for me. And judging by the way I'm tied to this chair, I don't think he has good intentions at all.

"Okay, your name is not the most important piece of information right now." He shrugs, starting to pace in front of me so calmly that frustration begins to gather in my gut. He doesn't seem to be in a rush, so I can assume this will take a long time. I need to come up with a plan, and fast.

I don't think my body can handle much torture. I feel weak, exhausted, drained. I might be able to fight just him, no matter how tall and well-built he is, but I doubt I'd be able to handle more if he calls for backup. But first things first, I need to get out of these ropes. They are killing me.

My skin is burning from the friction, and I'm sure my left wrist is bleeding from my struggle to release the knot, but the adrenaline pumping in my veins is doing its work and preventing me from feeling too much pain-so far.

"I know who you are, and most importantly, I know what you represent for the Rominas, so your name should be the least of your concerns right now," he explains, not stopping to look at me. It's like he's reading me a story, his tone bored and contained.

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Fucking cowardly asshole.

"Being the bride to the heir of the Romina Empire, I must assume you were taught a thing or two about interrogations." He comes to a halt in front of me, his massive body turning toward me once more.

I don't know why I'm surprised, since he obviously saw me at the wedding, but I wonder what else he knows about me. Is he aware I was forced into this marriage? Or that Oleg killed my parents? Would it be too much to assume he took me to use me as a bargain against Oleg?

If that's the case, I have some bad news for him-Oleg couldn't care less about my death.

Sure, it would ruin his plan of keeping the legacy of "his" empire within the family, but his son still has Romina blood. He could take any other woman to marry Yakov and keep running his businesses.

I clench my jaw even harder, gritting my teeth with such pressure that I hear my bones crack. When he lowers to my level again, his face so close to mine that I have to hold my breath, I accidentally breathe him in. His cologne is intoxicating, but the last thing I need right now is my judgment to be clouded. His dark eyes study every inch of my face so carefully that I wonder what he is thinking.

"You know, I respect-even admire-a woman with resilience," he continues, his minty breath fanning against my lips.

Can't he keep his distance while he speaks to me? It'd be easier to take his threats seriously instead of wondering what he can possibly do to me if I keep refusing to answer his questions. He seems to be the type of guy who'd know what to do with someone like me. In every sense of the word...

What the fuck are you talking about, Tatiana? The guy would probably cut you into pieces and offer your body to the dogs if you push him too much. This is not a steamy romance, you fucking idiot!

Scolding myself doesn't help when a smirk appears on his lips, causing shivers to run down my spine, only serving as fuel to my delusional thoughts.

"Fine, suit yourself,” he concedes, unbothered. "But let me warn you, just in case you're thinking you can wear me out, it might take me longer than usual, but I can and will break you."