A year had passed since I fought my captor and escaped that tiny room. My father turned over the suburbs to look for him but it was all futile. And since I didn't see his face it made it even difficult for my father to find him.

I graduated from art school, but I had to go with bodyguards everyday so I couldn't make any friends.

My father commended me for handling a kidnap situation by myself and I always bugged him for not even noticing that his only child was missing for three days!

“It's a year already and you still hold me captive,” I said to myself as I stared at the huge painting in my room.

His eyes.

So that I wouldn't forget, I painted a picture of his eyes and I looked at it every night before I slept and each morning immediately I woke up.

Obsession. It had to be.

I was obsessed with this man that wanted to end my life and that of my father's. I longed for him and I saw him every night in my dreams.

“Where are you?” I asked. “Can't you appear to me one last time?”

Impossible.

I sighed and moved away from the painting, I looked at myself one last time in the mirror.

My 20th birthday!

Dad insisted on celebrating and I made him promise that it would be the last time.

I wore a tight short fitted red gown that showed my curves. My father would throw tantrums and ask me to change but I would laugh and politely decline. Next time when he wants to throw a birthday party and invite people I don't know, he'd think about my choice of outfit and change his mind.

“Uncle!” I shouted, hopping cheerfully down the stairs.

“Mishka!” He gave me a tight hug and lifted me up.

“Ah! I'm not a teddy bear Uncle Viktor,” I pouted.

“You'll always be my Mishka.”

“Where's my gift?” I asked excitedly. Uncle Viktor always gave the best gifts.

“It's not time yet. The party hasn't even started.”

I frowned. “It's my birthday, I should get what I want.”

Uncle Viktor finally gave in. “I'll ask Dimitri to bring it in.”

I raised my brows. “Dimitri?” I knew everyone around my uncle and I have never heard that name.

Uncle studied my face. “He's new. Dimitri is now my right hand man.”

“Do you trust him?” I was concerned.

“I wasn't born yesterday, I know who to keep around me.”

I nodded. Uncle is smart and that's why my father kept him close as a consigliere even though my uncle wanted nothing to do with the family business.

“I'm sure your father is going to start putting you in the family business now that you are old enough.”

My eyes rolled. “But I don't want it, like you.”

“But I'm still here,” he stroked my hair. “We can't avoid it.”

I liked talking to my uncle. I told him things I couldn't tell my father, he was like the best friend I didn't have.

“Oh. Dimitri's here with your gift.”

I turned with smiles plastered on my face, ready to receive my gift.

Oh God.

The smile froze on my face, and my breath caught in my throat as the figure stepped into the room.

He was tall, at least 6'3" with broad shoulders that filled out his black suit like it had been stitched onto him. His presence devoured the room like a shadow, dark and dominant. His jaw was sharply cut, with the faintest trace of stubble that gave him an edge of ruggedness beneath the sophistication. His lips were set in a firm line, but it was his eyes that shattered me.

Deep brown. Cold. Calculating. Just like the ones I’d painted a thousand times. The ones that haunted my dreams and stirred something inside me I had no name for.

No.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

It was him.

The man who had kidnapped me. The voice that dripped with danger. The presence that had made my heart pound even when I was tied in the dark.

Memories of the pitch black room came flooding back. I took a step back before I even realized it, my pulse roaring in my ears.

His gaze locked with mine and for a moment, time stopped. His expression didn't flicker, but those eyes…I saw them twitch lightly.

“Dimitri,” Uncle Viktor said, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside me. “This is Irina.”

“Hello Irina,” he said, and the sound of his voice made every hair on my body rise.

His voice was the same. Controlled. Dark. Deep. Smooth like silk, sharp like a blade.

I knew he recognized me. His eyes said it all.

I felt my legs weaken, but I couldn’t crumble. Not here. Not now. I straightened my back and forced a tight smile. “Thank you for the gift,” I said, voice almost steady.

His eyes didn’t leave mine.

“I’m sure you'll love it,” Uncle Viktor said. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to speak to your father.”

It was just us now.

A chill swept down my spine.

I swallowed hard, blood roaring through my veins.

And one question kept ringing in my ears.

Why is he here?