Page 68 of Bratva Menace

She opened the front door, and I was greeted with that infernal steel roller security door. A number pad was on the door frame to the left. She entered the code in so quickly I barely managed to get any of the numbers. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t planning to be back in order to use it anyway.

The light above the number pad switched from red to green, and the door clicked open. I tensed my muscles in preparation. Lyla placed a hand on the door and started to slowly push it up⁠—

I shoved her out of the way and bolted onto the front porch. No. No, no, no. Skidding to a halt, I stared out into the distance. “Oh, get fucked,” I hissed under my breath. There was nothing in sight for fucking miles except rolling hills littered with mountains of snow. We were out in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t a single sign of life. No other houses. No roads. Nothing. The realization that escape was firmly out of my grasp hit me like a ton of bricks.

The floorboards creaked. Lyla came up to my side, a smile on her pretty little face despite the fact that I’d just tried to make a run for it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She sighed dreamily. “Come on, this way.” She turned to the right and walked down the veranda, disappearing around the corner.

My gaze flicked out to the distance again. Maybe I could⁠—

“The closest house is miles away, and the temperature is set to reach a low of -9 degrees today. If you think you can make it before your balls freeze, go for it,” Lyla called out.

Grumbling under my breath, I followed after her. A black Range Rover was parked at the back of the house. She stood next to the open door at the back of the car, a white fur coat now draped across her shoulder, and a white beanie over her head. In her hand was a much larger, matching coat, the fabric dangling off her fingertips.

“Not really my style,” I commented, my gaze roving, looking for something…anything that could help me escape.

“Yes, it is.” She said it confidently. With conviction. Not a single shred of doubt, like she’d bet her life on it. “It’s big and bulky. Exactly the way you like your coats, and I made sure to get it in your favorite color.”

My eyes ran over her, assessing. “How did you know white is my favorite color?”

“You forget I’ve been in your room. Multiple times. Sometimes when you were sleeping. Sometimes when you weren’t.” She winked. “I noticed a lot of your clothes were white. My guess? You like to wear it because of the way blood stands out on it.”

“Why would you think that?”

Her smile was devious. “Because that’s why I like to wear it.” She stepped back and gestured for me to enter the car with a swipe of her hand. “Come on. Get in.”

I ran through the options in my head. I could stand out here, freezing my fucking ass off. Go back inside and hope for another opportunity to escape. Or take my chances and get in the car with a crazy woman who tricked me into marrying her and kidnapped me.

We all knew which option I was going to pick, right?

Blowing out a huff that was only mildly filled with irritation, I walked down the few porch steps and over to the car. I snatched the coat out of her hand, somewhat haughtily, and climbed into the back seat. Lyla followed behind me, buckling herself into the seat next to me.

“You’re going to love this place. I did a lot of research beforehand. Made sure it was absolutely perfect. They’re rumored to sell the best Korolevsky cake in town.”

My head snapped to her. “Korolevsky cake? That’s my⁠—”

“Favorite?” She turned to face me and gave me that fucking smirk that was quickly becoming my undoing. “I know.”

Of course she fucking did. What didn’t she know about me would be the better question.

I’d known for the longest time that I had a stalker. Someone who was following my every move. Someone who had an obsession with me. I guessed I never really knew what that entailed until then. She seemed to know everything about me. Things that I was sure no one else knew. No one else even paid attention to.

She faced forward again. “To Tsar Café, please, Cedric.”

The man in the driver’s seat nodded once, and the car began to move. He was the same dude I’d knocked out the day prior. I didn’t feel bad about it. In my opinion, he deserved it.

I stared out the window, watching the world roll by. “Do you know why Korolevsky cake is my favorite?” I asked, keeping my gaze locked outside. I was curious exactly how much Lyla knew about me. Whether everything she knew was merely a coincidence.

“Because it’s known as King’s cake and you’re the ‘ring-a-ding-king’?”

“You’ve been listening in on my calls,” I stated.

“Well, we’re not really surprised about that, are we?” She chuckled.

I chose not to answer because no, I wasn’t at all surprised by it. Based on what I’d observed so far, it was right on par with her. It should have bothered me a fuckton more than it did to know that she’d been essentially monitoring my calls. That she’d been spying on me. Stalking me. But it was so different from what I’d ever experienced that, instead of making me nervous or putting me on edge, it goddamn thrilled me.

“I saw your father,” she said suddenly.