Sleep evades me as it has the past days. I am getting more and more anxious even as I always try to talk myself down, for peanuts sake. I am trying to hold on for him, but it is hard when the asshole has had me for four days and my calvary hasn't found me.

Darrell must be really good at hiding himself. That, or he has been planning this for a while and he has powerful allies. Powerful enough to hide from The Syndicate and all their reach.

I have been wrecking my brain for days trying to figure everything out. He is Russian and he wants the business. The only thing I remember about Russians is that they are one of the Syndicate's biggest competitors and enemies.

It is hard even getting the answers because I haven't seen Darrell since the night of the call. He has kept his distance and a guard now sits outside this room and everything is locked.

I get food brought to me by the housekeeper I'm guessing, and they are always accompanied by 2, armed guards, who always have guns pointed at me. which is ridiculous. I'm just one pregnant girl. I think that is all the mean man's doing.

Darrell had let me free that first day and he looked and sounded like he wanted me comfortable. But everything changed after that man came. I could see even his demeanor changing. Darrell cares about impressing him. Probably his mentor or the father figure he has in his life.

I look to my side where there is a wall clock, and the time shows to be 4am. This whole thing sucks. I try to close my eyes, at least I need an hour in before sunrise.

I jump when I see the form in front of me. Darrell is looming over me like a creep. I pull the covers close to me and I get away. He doesn't move but he just stares at me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, only eyes and hair out.

He shakes his head. "If I wanted to do something to you, don't you think I would have by now?"

That doesn't place me at any ease. What the fuck is he talking about and why is he here. Does he mean I should trust him?

"You don't expect me to trust you, do you?" I want to clap myself for the sass because he does have my life in his hands, but I can't help it.

"I'd watch that mouth if I were you, Zahara. Plenty of people here want to get their hands on you and I'm the only thing that's prevented them from ruining you."

My mouth falls open and I see the horror in his eyes. I don't even know why I'm surprised; I know I'm not on friendly ground, but I forget that people could really harm me because they've mostly left me alone.

My eyes look at everywhere but him as I pray to the good lord he leaves soon.

"What do you want to have for breakfast?" he asks in a softer tone, but I am not a fool enough to let my guard down. I haven't forgotten how he struck me.

"Anything." I mutter to get rid of him.

"Is oats fine?"

I nod quickly. His presence makes my skin crawl. I used to think I know what loathing is, but I realized the past few days I actually don't. What I feel for this guy is nothing close to anything I've ever felt. I want to shove hot coals up his ass and watch him smoke. But I am also terrified of him. I have seen what he is capable of.

A person who can strike a pregnant woman, is capable of anything. Perhaps my comfort here depends on his kindness, and I need to play his game wherever I can. Well, until they come for me.

He turns on his heel and leaves the room. I expel a long breath after he leaves.

I drag myself to the bathroom and I lock the door. I shower quickly and then I get dressed in jeans and a hoodie. I found clothes that are almost my size here but not necessarily my style. I'd say for someone in their late 20s or maybe 30s and slightly bigger than me, but their clothes are loose fitting and perfect.

But that makes me wonder, whose clothes are they. I hope they belong to someone else and not the creepier theory: that he bought them for me because he indeed has been planning this for a while.

Darrell said he's bringing me breakfast, maybe he'll stay, even though I'll be creeped out and I can try and get something from him. I make the bed and I sit down and fold my hands when I don't know what to do with them. its 8am and I already feel like this has been a long day.

The door opens without knocking and no one comes in. I sit for a few minutes before I take tentative steps. I move slowly to the door, aware that there is security in the door, and they will not be as restrained as Darrell.

"Hello?" I say in a small voice before I move closer so I can peep my head out. when a minute passes and I get no reply, I step out after making sure no one is around. I see no one at the door. I walk out, making sure my steps are as light as can be. I walk down.

I have no hope this being one of those situations where a stealthy sniper kills all the captors and the captured walks free to find everyone dead. Or even the rapture would be great right now. Not that I think Darrell is a saint, but a girl can hope.

I hear voices when I near the stairs and I stand at the top. I contemplate turning back when I hear Russian. But I stand and peel my ears; I realize after a minute Darrell is speaking to someone on loudspeaker. I walk down trying to hear what they are saying.

"Oni dogovorilis'" the other speaker says. 'They have agreed.'

"V samom dele?" he responds a little happier. I'm guessing its good news, which means it's bad for me. My stomach coils. 'Really?'

"Da. Oni khotyat paket. Vstrecha zavtra." The other mutters. 'Yes. they want the package. Meeting is tomorrow.'

"My deystvitel'no sdelali eto." I hear the happy note in his voice. 'We really did it.'

"Ona prosto shlyukha. Ne oblazhaysya." I hear a hard tone on the other line. 'Don't fuck it up. She is just a whore.'

"Da." When I am halfway down and Darrell sees me, he says his goodbyes and closes the laptop. I eye it hungrily. If I could just get one message to Sebastian.

"Don't even think it, star, you'd never be alive by the time they get here."

I furrow my brows. It doesn't settle me that he keeps calling me by the pet names they gave me. The answer to the questions I have where that is concerned I fear may be something I am not ready to hear. The possibility of how long he's followed me and what he knows.

I elect to be smart and try to see if I can't play this game, perhaps get some information. Like who the fuck he is and who is Popov and what the fuck do the guys and our fathers have to do with anything.

He stands up and goes to the kitchen. He actually turns his back to me.

My soul shrinks the closer I get to him. I try to breathe out evenly.

'Peanut, help me out here. Calm down, please.'

I take a seat on the table. after skimming the room, I see there is nothing I can use in my immediate surroundings. Nothing but this laptop. He comes back with a bowl of oats, and he places it in front of me. It looks like regular oats. Didn't he say he can't cook?

"The housekeeper made it, I just dished it." he answers my unspoken question and I frown. Can he read me that easily? I need to watch myself around him. I can't show my tell; I need to conceal them better. I just need to stay alive; I know they are coming for me.

But what if they aren't.

I kick that unwelcome thought out of my head. I know them, I know they will come for me. They will rescue us, and we will be home in no time. I just have to do my part and get anything I can and stay alive.

I stare at the oats. I don't want to eat it. I don't care even if he says Mother Teresa made it, I don't want to eat it.

"It's not poisoned." He says. I lift my eyes to find him, he looks offended.

"I don't really have a great record when it comes to you. Excuse my reluctance, Darrell. Or wait that's not even your real name. Adrik, Popov, or whoever the fuck you are." I spit. I regret it when I am finished, and I see the twist in his expression. I guess he wants to remind me who I'm dealing with. I shrink in my seat.

I stare down at the oats when I realize engaging him in a glare contest probably isn't the smartest thing to do. I don't want him on high alert. I want him relaxed. He gets up and he goes to the kitchen. I don't bother looking up. I shift in my seat, and I cross my legs. I am so hungry, but I don't trust this oats. I still don't look up when he returns and two bananas land next to the bowl of oats. I look up.

"Eat. I don't want you fainting tomorrow."

I scowl and he opens his laptop and pays me no mind. But tomorrow? What is happening tomorrow?

"What's happening tomorrow?" I ask terrified of the answer.

"You don't need to worry your pretty little head about it." he says not even looking up to me.

I iron the jeans with my sweaty, trembling palms. I try to calm down, but I can't. That's like 24 hours away and what if he takes me to a place they will never find me again.

"Darrell, please tell me." my voice comes out small and I hate it. I bet he will enjoy my fear.

"My name is Adrik, princess. Darrell is my stage name as I'm sure you've figured." He speaks

"And who are you and what is going on?"

It takes a few seconds, but he closes his laptop.

He leans into his chair, and he looks at me with a gaze filled with so many things, half of them I don't even know.

"My father was born here in America to two Russian immigrants. My father worked for years, rising the bratva ranks, earning his place. Him and my uncle were unstoppable. In 2004, my father had just become Pakhan for the city of Pavana when your father and his friends were rounding up the south. They did not like that my father had a city that was loyal to him, and he kept a tight grip on it. He was a strong Pakhan and he wouldn't be bought or removed that easily. On April 10th, 2006, your fathers attacked our compound in the desert, and they killed my grandmother together with 5 of my father's men. I was there. and then in 2013 they finished the job and took the greatest man I've ever known from my family and me."

I am left stunned.

Well, fuck.

"Um..." I lose my train of thought.

Well, he's definitely got a bone to pick. They killed his grandmother. But last time I checked our fathers never killed women or children. And if he was there, they spared him.

"They spared you?" it's a stupid question but I feel like it doesn't make full sense.

"I hid under the bed where my uncle found me after." He grinds out.

I elect to not ask any more questions, but I want to know more about his feud. Maybe I can find something helpful.

Rubbing peanut doesn't put me at ease. I have held out on freaking out but after the meeting in the morning, I can't help the feeling of hopelessness. Darrell is really going to use me to secure his seat in the American bratva high table and simultaneously get the ports. And by the looks of things, he will get it. He will get it all because of me and my stupid self.

The uncle is a curious case though. He is always lurking around Darrell and from what I've gathered today he is the handler, though I suspect there could be more going on with the uncle. I don't know but something doesn't add up with him.

A knock makes me jump with a gasp. My eyes stick to the door and when it opens I see the one person I don't want to see most and his yellow teeth make their acquaintance with my eyes and I want to barf.

"Davay gryaznaya suka." He says in that voice that makes me want to douse my body in sanitizer. The man is disgusting, and I don't even understand what he's saying. 'Come, dirty bitch.'

I don't hear what he's saying but I gather from his body language that he just said something disgusting, and he wants me to go with him. I try to breathe as if to will my heart to slow down.

'Peanut, if it's true that babies are angels and you are an angel too, right now would be the time to talk to god to help us or we will be in shit.'

I walk fast and I pass him quickly. Just as I was about to thank the gods, a meaty hand grabs my arm and I wince a little. Tears burn my eyes when he squeezes my arm and I flinch when he comes close to my ear.

"My pogubim teyba chernaya suka." His voice comes out menacing and I feel like small insects are crawling on my skin. 'We will ruin you black bitch.'

A cold, icy shiver takes over my body and then he laughs at my reaction. He pushes me out the door and I tumble to the ground.

"Vstavay, shlyukha!" his boot makes contact with my stomach, and I scream. 'Get up, whore!'

My baby!

No! no, no, no.

"What the fuck is go-"

I hear the voice in the midst of the chaos and panic that's going on in my head.

Oh, Peanut, I'm so sorry.

Please be okay.

Please be okay.

I sob on the ground as I fold myself in a fetal position.

"Ukhodi!"

I feel hands on me, and I flinch. I back away until I hit the wall. I wipe my tears and I look around. Its Darrell and the other monster is gone. It dawns on me that I am not as protected as I thought I was. I hug my knees to my stomach. I will protect my little peanut no matter what they plan to do to me.

"I am sorry about that. I didn't tell him to do it." he pauses, looking like he has some sympathy in his eyes before he continues. "But you need to come with me." he extends his hand.

It does not give me relief that he is still taking me somewhere else. But I know that they could still attempt to harm my child further. My heart squeezes in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut as tears squeeze out. I tremble trying to will myself to disappear.

"Come, Zahara. I don't have all day." his voice comes out harder than before.

With trembling hands, I lean on the wall and pull myself up. I wrap my arms around my stomach.

I follow him downstairs. I find the uncle sitting on the dining table eating. He smirks when he takes in my appearance. I guess he likes seeing me undone. Maybe he told that fucker to rough me up. I wish I could take that fork and stuff it down his throat.

"You finally grace us with your presence, your highness." He says in a dark Russian accent and it's the first time I hear him speaking English.

I tighten my arms around myself. He looks at my stomach and he chuckles a dark chuckle.

Darrell passes me and he goes to stand between us.

"Dyadya, voz'mi svoyego muzhchinu." Darrell says to his uncle. 'Uncle, get your man in line.'

"Are you going soft, son?"

"No." Darrell grunts.

"Good." They communicate something I don't know before Darrell goes to the coffee table and he picks something up. He comes back and he has a phone. He punches something on it and then hands it to me.

I furrow my brows.

"Your boyfriends want to talk to you."

I take it without any question.

"Popov." I hear Mason's voice on the line and the dam breaks. I sniffle.

"Zara?"

I can't speak.

"Sweetheart, is that you?" I hear the distress in the line.

"Yes, its me." my voice barely comes out from being clogged by the tears and all the words clogging my throat wanting to get out. I want to tell him everything.

"Are you alright?" my heart breaks for him, for all of them. He sounds so tortured.

"Yeah, I am fine." I manage.

"Just hang in there, okay. We will bring you home." I hear the promise and the utter desperation in his voice. Everything that has brought us here comes back to me. We were playing a game of pettiness and I played right into harming myself and peanut and all of us. Now everyone will lose everything.

"I'm s-sorry. It's my fault." I don't know what will happen, but I know anything is possible. my mouth trembles in a sob I am trying to keep in. I know it will worry him hearing me cry but I can't help it.

"Sweetheart, don't apologize. Don't blame yourself. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry, Zara. I...I..."

The phone gets snatched from me and I scream.

"Give me the phone!" I leap for Darrell and hands grab me before I get to him. My survival instinct kicks in, and I twist. When the person is surprised, I punch, and I kick. I jump to the door, and I pull the door open, and I run out.

I only make it to half the yard before guns are on my face. I halt and I am kicked to my knees and its lights out when something hits the back of my head.

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