Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride (2 page)

Anatoly watched Bianka flounce out of his casino, and had never been so glad to see someone go.

Now. On to the silly students who thought they could cheat him. Foolish children often required a life lesson or two, which he was more than happy to provide.

Chapter Two

“What does he mean when he says we were cheating?” Trisha murmured to her friend.

Minka appeared frozen with fear as their group stood inside a lavish office on the top floor of the hotel that housed the casino. Trisha was confused. The rest of her group were native Russian, save for one boy who had come on exchange from Germany. Like Trisha, they were all part of a study program at the Moscow Academy. Trisha had been finishing up the Russian history component of her art degree. The rest were there for varying reasons.

Now they were all being held inside the office because the casino manager claimed they had cheated.

Trisha still didn’t get it. “I didn’t cheat. Why am I stuck here?”

“Shh,” Minka hissed. “Just stay silent. Don’t speak. If we are lucky, they will let us go with a warning.”

“Did someone call the gaming commission or something?” Trisha had heard about these things on television back home.

“Gaming commission?” Minka frowned. “What is this?”

“Like casino cops,” Trisha explained.

Minka gave a hard bark of laughter. “This is Moscow. We are in a mafia owned casino. There is no police force that would argue with the mafia. They are kings here.”

“Oh.” Trisha lapsed into silence.

She swallowed back a lump and wondered if it was time to text her dad. He was a detective in Cleveland. One of the overprotective kind. Of course, that made her hesitant to ask him for help. If she screwed up this time, she would be lucky to be let out of the house again before she turned forty.

Suddenly, the beautifully crafted double doors swung open and a man entered. Of course it was the Anatoly Zaretsky guy that the bitchy blonde had informed them was the casino owner. But he didn’t look cute at the moment. He looked scary as hell.

Trisha clenched her hands into tight fists to keep herself from trembling. The man was still staring at her. Why? Surely he needed to be focused on the person who had actually cheated, not that anyone was admitting anything. The jerks.

“Now,” Anatoly began. “Does everyone speak Russian with some degree of fluency? Or do I need to repeat myself in English?”

“We’re all fluent,” one of the boys said in a voice filled with false bravado.

Anatoly nodded. “Good. Then let me get right to the point. Our security team has footage of your group cheating at the blackjack tables.”

“Who?” the German boy demanded. “Let him be singled out and the rest of us go home. I leave tomorrow to go back to Berlin.”

“It is not that simple,” Anatoly said quietly. “In my casino, all who stand with a man that cheats the house are considered to be aiding him.”

One of the other girls was wringing her hands, looking so scared she might have been ready to burst into tears. “But we did nothing! We did not know someone was cheating!”

ANATOLY WATCHED THE American. How could he not? Her self possession was incredible. Her friends were practically frozen with fear, and yet she looked almost bored with the proceedings. He had noticed her almost the moment she walked into the casino. It was not often that he saw a woman who looked like her. With her short, curly, fire-red hair, pale skin, and brilliant green eyes, she was unique in a sea of blondes.

Now he singled her out, pointing to her specifically though she stood at the back of the group. “You? You have nothing to say about this crime you have committed?”

“I find it ridiculous that I’m accused of committing a crime without any sort of evidence that I have done wrong, and no prior knowledge of the incident. Apparently in this country it is the standard to be guilty by association. In which case, I believe it would be somewhat hypocritical of you to point the finger at us.”

Anatoly struggled to suppress his laugh. Her companions were edging away from her as though they were afraid she was going to earn them all some sort of retribution.

Anatoly gathered himself, putting on his game face and looking as mean as possible. “You would dare to argue with me?”

“Someone has to,” she retorted. “Otherwise we’re all going to jail for a crime that only one of us committed. I don’t know about the others, but I find it saddening to think that the criminal in our midst hasn’t even identified himself.”

“What if the criminal isn’t a he?” Anatoly murmured. “What if I said the criminal was you?”

“You would be lying.”

“You are calling me a liar?” He was delightfully shocked by her boldness.

Her green eyes narrowed to slits, and she put her hands on her hips in a gesture of pure annoyance. “I’m not calling you a liar. I’m simply saying that you are lying about this incident, because I didn’t cheat. I wouldn’t even know how.”

“The rest of you may be excused.” Anatoly waved at his men, and they began herding the remaining students out of the office. “I have my criminal. I will deal with her accordingly.”

He noticed that the blonde he had seen earlier with his redheaded spitfire was looking positively sick. The two young women embraced. The redhead whispered something in her friend’s ear. The girl nodded. An agreement perhaps? What were they saying? And why was Anatoly so obsessed with finding out? It could hardly affect him. He could do what he wished. The Moscow police would never deny him.

TRISHA HAD NEVER been so scared in her entire life. What was this man playing at? If he had video footage of the cheating incident, then he knew good and well that Trisha wasn’t responsible. Why would he lie? And wasn’t this illegal? She had already asked Minka to contact the American Embassy. If she were lucky, a whole platoon of Marines would storm this place and whisk Trisha away to safety. For now, though, she had to tread carefully.

The double doors snicked shut. The sound was soft, and yet the meaning was ominous. Trisha was alone with this man who exuded a ruthless sort of power she could not begin to challenge.

“Now.” Anatoly Zaretsky turned to face her with a cold smile. “Shall we chat?”

“I’m an American citizen,” she said stiffly. “I have rights.”

Trisha felt horribly exposed standing in the center of the room before Anatoly’s desk. It hadn’t been so bad when she was in a group. But now she felt vulnerable and more than a little twitchy. She had barely glanced over all the legal stuff about her study abroad program. Of course there had been pamphlets and webpages dedicated to the rights of an American citizen on Russian soil. Trisha just didn’t remember much of it. Therefore she had one option. Bluff.

“Ah yes, my American citizen.” There was no doubt that Anatoly was mocking her. He raised his eyebrows, and the corner of his mouth twisted up into a sneer. “What rights do you believe you have here in my casino? Especially when I have caught you cheating?”

“I have a right to contact my embassy. You can’t hold me here against my will. You have to turn me over to the police.”

“No.” He gave a tiny shake of his head. “I do not.”

This man mesmerized Trisha. She could not look away as he sauntered toward his desk and flopped into his chair. He looked like a lazy Roman statesman. He picked up a pen and began tapping it on the desk. The sound was driving her daft. Finally he stopped and she was able to focus.

He cocked his head and waved toward the doorway. “The Russian police are my—how do you say this in America—they are my bitches. They do what I want. I am the law here in Moscow when I choose to be.”

“That’s despicable,” she whispered. “You’re doing this on purpose then. You know I didn’t do anything. You’re just holding this over me? For what purpose? Why would you do that?”

He looked briefly taken aback. “Because I can.” He gave a little nod of his head, his dark hair looking sexy and tousled as though he’d just gotten out of bed.

Trisha castigated herself for thinking such a thing. Why would she care what Anatoly Zaretsky looked like when he got out of bed? She hated this man! He was a complete jerk!

She took a deep breath.
Be calm and rational.
“Mr. Zaretsky, I don’t know what I’ve done to earn your animosity, but please be assured that it was unconsciously done. I have a flight out of Moscow tomorrow, and I really need to be on it.”

FOR SOME REASON, the very idea of Trisha leaving Moscow the following day was completely unacceptable to Anatoly. He could not decide what bothered him so much. It wasn’t as if he knew Trisha at all. She was beautiful in a very unique way. That was true. Yet he could have propositioned her for the night and been done with it. Still, he could not imagine a woman like Trisha giving in to such an incentive. Therefore, he needed to up the stakes a little. Once he figured her out, he would get over this strange infatuation.

“You will be held here,” he announced.

She gaped. “Excuse me?”

“I spoke in English. Is there some other language you prefer to use?” He knew he was being arrogant, but he couldn’t resist jabbing her a little just to see how she would react. Her mind fascinated him.

“Oh, I heard you. And I well understood what you said.” She put her hand on her hip and glared at him. “I just cannot imagine how you think it’s alright to hold a woman against her will because you’re power tripping like some two-bit gangsta!”

This time Anatoly could not hold back the laughter. He busted out into a belly laugh that echoed off the walls of his office and brought two enforcers charging through his door on high alert. He waved at his men. They looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. Perhaps he had. He was still having trouble containing himself.

“You think that’s funny?” Trisha demanded. “I’m being perfectly serious! You’re power tripping! It’s not right. You can’t hold me here.”

“Watch me,” Anatoly said with a careless snort. “You will remain here in my custody for a week to pay for your crime.”

“To pay for my—” She looked horrified. “For the love of God! Have you lost your senses? My parents will be frantic!”

“No.” Anatoly shrugged. “They will get a call from the Moscow police telling them that you were caught cheating in a mafia run casino. That will be explanation enough.”

She snorted. “My dad is going to tear your arms off.”

Anatoly had to admit that if Trisha’s bravado was any indicator, her father was probably a force to be reckoned with. Still, he didn’t care. Her father was a million miles and an ocean away. Trisha was right here and now in his office.

“I will have someone show you to your accommodations.” Anatoly stood up, not even bothering to say another word before he left his office.

He stopped in the hallway outside. “There is a woman inside,” he told Yakov. “Place her under lock and key in one of my guest suites.”

“Sir?” Yakov could not hide his surprise.

Anatoly curled his lip, showing his men he meant to have his way. “Just do it.”

There were no more arguments, and Anatoly was glad. He didn’t exactly have a sensible reason for his current set of choices. But he would come up with one soon enough, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Three

“You can’t hold me here!” Trisha shouted, banging on the door with each syllable to emphasize her ire. “You Russian mafia assholes can go to hell for all I care!”

Of course there was zero response from the twin beefcakes who had shoved her into this palatial prison cell. What in the hell was going on? It was like something out of a bad Lifetime movie.

She turned away from the door, breathing deeply to try and calm her anger. It wouldn’t do her any good to completely lose her mind. She needed to stay calm, rational, and sharp. At some point this Anatoly guy would make a mistake, and she would be waiting. She would run and find the American Embassy. Then she would go home. She hadn’t done anything. There was no way Anatoly could prove she had.

Pivoting in a slow circle at the center of the room, Trisha tried to take it all in. She’d never seen anything like this bedroom except in movies. There were lofty, twenty-plus-foot coffered ceilings inlaid with azure and gold. The flooring was plush carpeting so thick it felt like walking on a cloud. The bed had actual draperies tied on all four sides of the elegant four poster. Through a doorway she could see a bathroom that looked equally palatial. It was like being locked in a princess’s tower. It might be beautiful, but that didn’t make it any less of a prison.

Trisha brushed her fingers over the pristine surface of a little writing table. Why did Anatoly even have a room like this? Was it normal for him to take a female hostage every once in awhile? The one thing she hadn’t yet thought about was the possibility that he was going to force himself on her. Or that he would try.

“Like I’m going to lie down and just
let
that happen!” she snorted.

Of course, her traitorous body might allow it without her say so. No matter how much she wanted to hate him, she couldn’t manage to stop being attracted to the bastard.

There was a knock on the door.

She spun around and reached for something—anything—that she could use like a weapon. In the end, there was nothing. She had to settle for pulling out the chair from beneath the writing desk and keeping it as a visible barrier between her and the door.

Anatoly stuck his head inside the suite. The smile on his face made it seem like nothing else had happened. It was both eerie and irritating. “Do you have everything you need? This room is quite comfortable, I hope.”

“Are you off your meds?” Trisha snarled. “I’m being held prisoner and you ask me if I have everything I
need
?”

“I’m merely trying to be polite.” He had the nerve to sound miffed. “There’s no need to be rude.”

ANATOLY WATCHED THE indecision flutter across Trisha’s pretty features. Her cheeks were bright pink with ire. She looked even more attractive when she was all riled up, if that were possible. Still, he was playing a specific game with her at the moment.