Chapter 1 Naomi

• Naomi
• “Don't come near me!” I growled around in my small apartment, but the man came towards me step by step. I didn't know why things had turned out this way, and I tried to hide my fear in front of him.
• Sveta was killed. Her father died, too. It's all out of control.
• It had all started when I was trying to help my best friend Ilsa, a detective with the LAPD, and her husband Roman, don of the Marchetti Mafia, save a young Russian girl—Sveta Orlov—who had been ripped from her family at the expense of her maniacal father. Since I was the only one that Ilsa knew who spoke Russian, they had brought her to me, and I had helped concoct a foolproof plan.
• Unfortunately, the plan had gone sideways before my part had come up. Sveta had been killed. Ilsa and Roman had been forced to take down her father by themselves, along with all who were involved.
• I’d thought that would have been the end of it.
• I thought that would have been the end of it, until I was kidnapped from my apartment and they called me "Sveta."
• In the end, the car pulled up to a large mansion that dwarfed all the houses I had visited in my lifetime, and the door was opened for me.
• “Come,” the guard said in gruff Russian, motioning for me to get out of the car and take me into the mansion.
• I glanced back at the car, thinking about running back in. But the guards would only drag me back out. But at the same time, I knew that once I walked into that mansion, it would be all over.
• My life, my identity, everything.
• It would be easier right now for me to walk off the nearest cliff.
• A wiry older woman was standing in the foyer, her pepper-colored hair pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck.
• “Good evening, Sveta Stanislavovna,” she said, her voice grating, and her mouth pursed as if she had tasted something sour. “Welcome to your home. I am Vera Pushkin, the maid and caretaker of this property. I hope you will find it to your liking.”
• Her voice was hollow, letting me know that she didn’t approve of me being here and could not care less if I liked the place or not. I wondered just how much they had been privy to the plan. “I want to go home,” I said softly, my voice breaking.
• No emotion flickered over her face. “You are home now, girl.”
• Vera turned and started up the beautiful staircase that led to the second landing, the wrought-iron railing scrolled with flowers and vines. A large chandelier hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling above my head and the floor was white marble, spotless enough that I could see my reflection in it.
• I was marched down a long hall to the end, where a door stood open with light spilling out from inside.
• Vera pushed open the door wider. “This is your room.”
• I was vaguely listening to her introduction about the equipment of the luxury room.
• “This.” Vera pointed to a button on the wall near the bed. “Is to summon me. I have staff around the clock to see to your needs. Your meals will be delivered unless the master wants you to dine with him. I will give you the schedule of meals tomorrow.”
• Master?
• My head was reeling from what was happening. I thought the mansion was going to be my prison. No, it would appear that I wasn’t even going to get that. This bedroom was going to be everything in my life.
• “Get some rest,” Vera said as she walked to the door. “He will be home soon.”
• I waited until she closed the door before crossing the room and trying the handle.
• It was exactly what I figured was going to happen.
• I was locked in from the outside.
• Panic started to rise in my throat, but I tamped it down, turning away from the door. This wasn’t the time to panic. I needed to find a way out.
• From the outside, the mansion probably looked just like the others: a high stone wall encircling the property and hiding the interior from prying eyes.
• But from the inside, it looked like a fortress capable of withstanding a siege.
• Drawing in a breath, I clenched the stone railing between my hands, wishing I had the balls to just jump off the balcony and pray I would go quickly. It would be so easy to do.
• But then I thought about Ilsa, the child that she carried in her belly, thought of my parents, and knew that I couldn’t give up.
• I couldn’t jump. I had my true family to live for, and I knew that they would be devastated if I was gone. Even more so, Ilsa would want to find out who had made me jump, and I couldn’t ruin the happiness she had found.
• I couldn’t. I would die ten times over rather than be the cause of other people’s sorrow.
• To survive, I had to play Sveta, just like we had planned from the beginning.
• Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the room. I opened the door of the closet and hid myself inside.
• The room’s door was opened.
• “Where is she?” I heard a magnetic male voice, no answer, and soon I heard the sound of closing door and was relieved.
• I cautiously pushed open the closet door and looked up at Gavriel, who was sitting on the couch playing with his gun.
• Gavriel's gray eyes sparkled, and he fixed his gaze on me, a smile looming on his lips, but there was no warmth in his gaze.
• He walked toward me step by step, crouched down in front of me and lifted my chin with his cold gun. "Caught you, my bride." "He said in Russian.
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