Page 119 of Captive Prize

I had feelings for him, intense feelings.

I wasn’t ready to call it love.

That was only for fairy tales, ads for cosmetic surgery, therapy, and small dogs that were inbred to the point of not being able to breathe properly. Or whatever else wealthy western women were self-medicating with.

But the life Roman was offering was far more than anything I ever thought I would have.

Today was the day before our wedding and he had things to do, business to attend to, so Samara came to get me for the Ivanov women’s weekly spa day.

I was actually enjoying the spa day, even though it was still inside Gregor’s house. Fortunately, he spared no expense in his lavish basement spa area and, despite leaving Russia, he had not abandoned its traditions. Which meant that things like saunas were a necessity.

The sauna itself was surprisingly spacious, and there was plenty of room for me, Samara, Marina, Yelena, Nadia, and Viktoria. Alina usually joined their group, but she wasn’t here yet.

Samara mentioned she was pregnant and might join us later.

The look Nadia and Marina shot each other told me it was doubtful.

I wondered if her pregnancy was the real reason she wasn’t with us. It could’ve been. I had no idea if saunas were allowed for people in that condition or not. I had never experienced being around pregnant women, so it was something I didn’t know about.

But there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me it had nothing to do with the sauna; I was the reason she wasn’t here.

So I sat among them, wrapped in a towel, the steam curling around my skin and lifting most of the stress from my body. I let the steam ease the deep ache between my thighs—the raw soreness from Roman's rough, unrelenting touch—as I tried, invain, to ignore the weight of the other women’s eyes boring into my skin.

They were trying, at least.

They were not openly hostile at all, but they were wary, and a little standoffish.

After all, invited or not, I was an intruder.

The attempt at civility was there—a few forced smiles, a bottle of mineral water passed around, and hushed murmurs of conversation.

But beneath it all was an undercurrent of resentment.

I could feel it in the way they avoided my gaze, in the stiffness of their postures, the lingering of their eyes when I wasn’t looking. But mostly in the silence that settled like dark smoke around us.

These women were close.

They were family, and I was an outsider.

One they didn’t trust.

Their invitation for me to join them was not offered with enthusiasm, but from a place of obligation. These women were the Ivanov wives. And soon I would become one, too. They were with me now because they had to be.

Roman had commanded them to make nice, and this was their attempt.

Honestly, I wished he hadn’t done it.

There was too much history. They knew why I was being held; they knew what I did.

They knew I was the reason they were all trapped in their homes like prisoners. The threats they had been under for the last several months were all because of me.

Although none of these women were ever my target, they were still caught in the crossfire of my ambitious climb to independence and freedom, and my determination to restore my family name.

I wasn’t sure exactly how much they knew about Solovyov or the cartel, but they knew about my kidnapping of Pavel, and the accident I caused that Alina and her unborn child were caught in.

It didn’t matter whether or not I knew they were going to be there. I could’ve told them that Alina and the baby’s involvement was a line I never wanted to cross, but it didn’t matter.

My intentions were not the issue. My actions were.

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