Page 21 of The Russian's Bought Bride

It sounds far too final, like he has no intention of getting me the real help I need, and it sets off every alarm in my body.

“What do you mean, no? I need to call the police.”

“That’s not happening.”

The way he says it, so calm and certain, makes something cold crawl up my spine. More so, the brief, barely-there concern lands before he can school his features.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not calling anyone,” he says. “Not yet.”

My heart starts pounding harder, not liking where this is going. “Why not? If what you’re saying is true, and if my dad was killed, then the police need to know. They need to—”

“They won’t help you,” he interrupts in a surprisingly quiet tone, yet it feels like cold water soaking me anyway.

I blink back at him in disbelief. “What?”

“They won’t help you,” Liam repeats, stepping further into the room and towering over me with his broad shoulders. “Not with this.”

“That’s not how that works. That’s literally their job,” I return, trying to shake off the way all of this muddles my mind. “You don’t get to just decide that for me.”

“I’m not deciding anything. I’m telling you how it is,” he insists, as if he’s telling the truth, but it can’t possibly be right.

Anger flares hot and fast in my chest as he doesn’t make any sense. “No, you’re not. You’re controlling the situation for whatever reason. You won’t let me leave, you won’t let me call anyone, and I don’t even know who you are. Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

He doesn’t react the way I expect.

Instead of raising his voice or arguing, he just watches me as if he doesn’t want to engage in this. Somehow, that’s worse.

“I want to leave,” I say again, more forcefully this time. “Right now.”

“You can’t.”

“I don’t know you,” I fire back, feeling a confusing mess of emotions well up in me, led by frustration. “None of this was supposed to happen.”

Something moves through his eyes at that, almost like that statement is more loaded than I’m aware of. “I know.”

“Then let me go!”

“I can’t.”

My chest tightens, my breath comes faster, and my voice breaks. “Why? Why can’t you just let me walk out of here?”

“Because it’s not safe.”

“That’s not your call to make!”

“It is right now.”

I stare at him, and fear settles deep in my chest. Not only did someone apparently lure Dad and me into some fraudulent trap, but the man who supposedly pulled me out of it won’t let me go. I don’t know what he wants, or what he intends to do, and that thought is terrifying in itself.

“You’re not telling me everything,” I say slowly, watching him with wariness.

He doesn’t respond like I’m onto him, and it only deepens that dread.

“You keep giving me half-answers,” I continue, my voice shaking. “You expect me to just trust you, but you won’t even tell me who you are or what’s actually going on. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

Liam pauses, then takes a deep breath. “You’re not.”