Yeah, I want my attorney.
Oh, right. My attorney’s the one who put me in here.
It was her friend Gretchen, of course. I knew they’d had a conversation. I’d listened to it. I didn’t hear any kind of hints or veiled secrets passed, but the two are good friends. Maybe there was something I missed.
I can’t even bring myself to be angry that I was bested by Lucy.
I hardly care what they do to me. Whether I find out what it’s like to serve time in an American prison, or whether they send me back to Russia to serve time there. None of it matters compared to the pain in my chest.
The utter destruction of my being when I realized she was faking it all. That she doesn’t care. She was just biding her time until she could get free of me.
I was a fool to think I could make her fall in love. That I could keep her. I was a fool to put the entire operation at risk for something that isn’t even allowed in the bratva.
And this is why, of course.
I just fucked everyone over this woman and my unborn child.
I’ve sat for hours while they tried to interrogate me with threats and intimidation techniques. They are fools if they think their methods will work. I’ve served time in Russian prisons.
I’m not afraid of them.
Two new agents are in here now. They started about an hour ago.
The door opens and one of the guards says, “His attorney,” and hands a card to one of the agents.
Stupid me. For one split second, hope reared its head. But no, it’s not my Lucy. It’s her friend, Gretchen.
If I were smart, I would say she’s not my attorney because I don’t know what game she’s up to, but I’m not smart. I haven’t been smart from the beginning when it comes to Lucy, and right now I need to know if she’s all right. Where she stands.
“I demand you release my client at once,” Gretchen says.
The agent narrows his eyes at her. “Excuse me? Aren’t you the one who notified the police about your friend’s suspected abduction?”
She lifts her chin. “I did, but I was mistaken. As you know from Ms. Lawrence’s statement, there was no abduction. She moved in with her boyfriend and the father of her child. Willingly. There is no reasonable suspicion of a crime. Unless you have something on Mr. Baranov or any of his four associates, I demand their release immediately.”
“Ms. Proxa. From the Attorney General’s office in DC,” one of the agents drawls, looking at her card. “You’re not a defense attorney. Are you even licensed to practice law in this state?”
“I can practice Federal law anywhere, Agent Rossi. As you should know.”
He snorts and folds his arms across his chest, showing how unimpressed he is.
“We’re not finished questioning the suspects.”
Gretchen walks over in her tight brown pencil skirt and stilettos, perches her ass on the table and folds one leg over the other. I seem to recall she is a switch. She does the domme thing very well. “I will advise my client not to answer any further questions.”
Agent Rossi tips his head to the side, taking in the length of Gretchen’s legs. The way she uses her sexuality as a weapon. “I do know I can keep them for twenty-four hours without charge.”
“There’s no reason to do that, Agent Rossi. No crimes were committed. My clients won’t speak to you any more. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you want to get home, too. I apologize for my role in this wild goose chase. To both of you,” she says, nodding my way but not meeting my gaze. It’s an apology she doesn’t mean.
I don’t give a shit, though, because my mind keeps tripping back to what she said about Lucy—the statement she’d given. She moved in with her boyfriend and the father of her child. Willingly.
Lucy lied for me.
I touch the tips of my fingers together to think. Could it be that this wasn’t a betrayal? Did Gretchen act on her own?
After a little more tit for tat between Agent Rossi and Gretchen, mainly for sport as far as I could tell, Rossi agrees to release us. I’m fairly certain it was mainly because he became incapable of refusing the sexy attorney anything she demanded.
I find Gretchen waiting for us outside. “A word, Mr. Baranov?”
“Ravil,” I correct, stepping several yards away from the building with her.
She stops and squares off to me. “I know what really happened,” she accuses. “And I have documentation. So if you come near my friend again”—she lifts one red-tipped finger in my face— “I will have you put away. Those guys in there are dying to nail something on you. They wouldn’t need Lucy to press charges. All they would need is my signed affidavit. Which I have put in a safe place. So don’t even think—”
“She sent you,” I interrupt. I have to know.
Gretchen closes her open mouth, a grudging expression on her face. She folds her arms across her chest. “Yes, she sent me.”
“She didn’t call for help.”
Gretchen regards me coolly. “No.” The finger comes back out into my face. “You fucked with her head. Now leave her alone. Unless you want the stress to harm the baby.”
I know she’s posturing, but the suggestion hits me in the solar plexus just the same. The idea of anything harming our sweet baby kills me. I can’t imagine how stressful today must’ve been for her.
“Where is she now?”
“She’s back at her place. Where she will stay. Leave her. The Fuck. Alone.”
I draw a breath and nod. Not because Gretchen’s threats scare me. Because it’s the right thing to do. I was wrong to force Lucy into my penthouse... not that I wouldn’t do it all over again if given the choice.
But I won’t force her again.
She’s paid her penance for trying to keep the baby from me. Now I have to pay mine and suffer the heartache of giving her up.
Even though it fucking guts me.
Chapter 19
Lucy
I open and close the largest matryoshka doll. Staring at the gift leaves me feeling like a bomb exploded in my chest. Somehow I made it through the last few days. Ravil hasn’t called or come over. I didn’t call him, either. I’m too confused. Gretchen explained what she’d told him, and that he agreed to leave me alone.
Part of me didn’t believe he would. But the next day, Oleg showed up with all my things, which he brought in and left without a word. Well, of course, without a word. But also without a message. Which made me wonder if that’s why Ravil sent him and him alone.
He barely looked at me when he brought the stuff in. I caught his arm as he was leaving. “Mne zhal',” I said. I’m sorry. I’d been practicing that one.
He just shook his head and left. Left me with even more angst.
If it had been one of the twins, I might have asked how Ravil was. Apologized for their arrest.
Although—what do I really have to apologize for? They were accomplices to Ravil’s kidnapping. And he did abduct me.
I can’t forget that.
Maybe I do have Stockholm Syndrome. I find myself missing them—all of them. I miss the massages and the food. I miss the easy banter between the guys. The warmth they all showed me despite the fact that I was a prisoner.