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| Eu fui sequestrada em minha lua de mel por tr\u00eas homens mascarados.<\/p>\n De olhos vendados.<\/p>\n Limitada.<\/p>\n Destino desconhecido.<\/p>\n Disseram-me para ficar em sil\u00eancio e cumprir as regras deles. Mas eles n\u00e3o perceberam que eu n\u00e3o era uma v\u00edtima … n\u00e3o mais.<\/p>\n O mar aberto foi o meu pano de fundo para nove dias tortuosos. Durante esse tempo, vislumbres do meu destino foram revelados por um homem com os misteriosos olhos de cor verde amarelada como licor chartreuse. Ele deveria ter me assustado, mas n\u00e3o o fez.<\/p>\n Ele me intrigou. E eu o intriguei.<\/p>\n Ele me puniu quando eu n\u00e3o o escutei, o que era todo dia. Mas por baixo de sua crueldade, senti que ele estava guardando um segredo grave.<\/p>\n Eu fui vendida.<\/p>\n E em um jogo de poker, nada menos.<\/p>\n Meu comprador? Um mafioso russo que gosta de colecionar coisas bonitas. Agora que sei a verdade, s\u00f3 tenho uma escolha.<\/p>\n Afundar ou nadar.<\/p>\n E quando uma noite fat\u00eddica me apresenta a oportunidade, eu entendo. Eu apenas n\u00e3o antecipei que minhas a\u00e7\u00f5es me deixariam naufragado com meu sequestrador.<\/p>\n Ele precisa de mim viva. Eu quero ele morto.<\/p>\n Mas como os dias se transformam em semanas, uma coisa se torna clara – eu deveria odi\u00e1-lo… mas n\u00e3o o fa\u00e7o.<\/p>\n Meu nome \u00e9 Willow.<\/p>\n Seu nome \u00e9 Saint.<\/p>\n Ir\u00f4nico, n\u00e3o \u00e9? Ele carrega um nome que denota nada al\u00e9m de santidade, mas n\u00e3o oferece nada al\u00e9m do inferno. Contudo, se isso \u00e9 o inferno na terra … Deus, salve minha alma.<\/p>\n Tradu\u00e7\u00e3o do Notas Liter\u00e1rias<\/a><\/td>\n | I was kidnapped on my honeymoon by three masked men.<\/span><\/p>\n Blindfolded.<\/span><\/p>\n Bound.<\/span><\/p>\n Destination unknown.<\/span><\/p>\n I was told to stay silent and abide by their rules. But they didn\u2019t realize I wasn\u2019t a victim\u2026not anymore.<\/span><\/p>\n The open sea was my backdrop for nine torturous days. During that time, glimmers of my fate were revealed by a man with the mysterious chartreuse-colored eyes. He should have scared me, but he didn\u2019t.<\/span><\/p>\n He intrigued me. And I intrigued him.<\/span><\/p>\n He punished me when I didn\u2019t listen, which was every single day. But beneath his cruelty, I sensed he was guarding a grave secret.<\/span><\/p>\n I was sold. <\/span><\/p>\n And in a game of poker, no less. <\/span><\/p>\n My buyer? A Russian mobster who likes to collect pretty things. Now that I know the truth, I only have one choice.<\/span><\/p>\n Sink or swim.<\/span><\/p>\n And when one fateful night presents me the opportunity, I take it. I just never anticipated my actions would leave me shipwrecked with my kidnapper.<\/span><\/p>\n He needs me alive. I want him dead.<\/span><\/p>\n But as days turn into weeks, one thing becomes clear\u2014I should hate him\u2026but I don\u2019t.<\/span><\/p>\n My name is Willow.<\/span><\/p>\n His name is Saint.<\/span><\/p>\n Ironic, isn\u2019t it? He bears a name that\u00a0denotes\u00a0nothing but holiness yet delivers nothing but hell. However, if this is hell on earth\u2026God, save my soul. \u00a0<\/span><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n \u201cTen steps,\u201d the American whispers from behind me. I flinch at his muffled voice through the pillowcase. He stands at my back, ensuring I don\u2019t fall. I could mistake his actions for him giving half a shit, but it\u2019s clear that wherever I\u2019m going, they need me alive. If not, they would have killed me already. <\/span><\/p>\n This isn\u2019t a robbery. It\u2019s a kidnapping. <\/span><\/p>\n Once I shakily descend the ten steps, my feet hit the sand, and in any other circumstance, I could appreciate the softness between my toes. But when I\u2019m pushed and shoved as the American no longer seems to be near, all I can appreciate is that I\u2019m not dead\u2014well, not yet anyway. <\/span><\/p>\n Through the pillowcase, I can hear the gentle lapping of the ocean against the shore, but it\u2019s none the wiser that three criminals are about to use it to aid in changing my world forever. When my feet tread water, I jolt with the sudden fear that they\u2019re going to drown me. But that doesn\u2019t make any sense.<\/span><\/p>\n If I\u2019m going to survive this, I have to keep my head clear. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBoat. In,\u201d says someone, maybe Russian two or one. They all sound the same. <\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m yanked up\u2014someone pulling on my floppy arms while the other lifts my legs\u2014and I feel like a chew toy being ripped into two. Once I\u2019m dragged onto the boat, I\u2019m directed on where to go as someone shoves me in the back, screaming at me in a language I don\u2019t understand. <\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m then forced down some stairs where I lose my footing and fall flat onto my stomach. Grunting on impact, I instantly search around, hoping to distinguish where I am\u2014I\u2019m in the bottom of the boat. The galley. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cStay,\u201d someone commands, ensuring I be the good dog they clearly see me as being. <\/span><\/p>\n Fuck them.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n I rise slowly, using my hands as eyes as I feel my way around blindly. I need to find a weapon. One small enough to hide. Blood is seeping into my eyes from the wound on my temple, so I close them because I can\u2019t see through this thick pillowcase anyway. <\/span><\/p>\n My fingers come into contact with what feels like a small torch. Not the weapon I had in mind, but it\u2019ll have to do. <\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m interrupted when I hear someone tsk me before I\u2019m being dragged by my long hair and hurled against what feels like a cushioned bench seat. The pain in my head just amplifies. \u201cArms behind. Hands together.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n I shakily comply, sobbing around the gag. <\/span><\/p>\n He reaches around me, and when the unmistakable feel of metal snaps around my wrists, I know my freedom is dwindling by the second. He yanks at the handcuffs to ensure they are tight. They are. <\/span><\/p>\n My breathless panting reveals my fear, but when I feel the predatory touch at the back of my calves, I freeze. Two hands glide up and down my flesh, humming in satisfaction. He\u2019s on his knees before me. <\/span><\/p>\n Oh, god.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou pretty.\u201d His English is broken, but I\u2019m not lost in translation. I know what he wants. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe going to have fun, and it\u2019ll be our secret.\u201d Next, I feel a wet tongue lap its way up the side of my calf. The smell of cigarettes and sweat has my stomach roiling. <\/span><\/p>\n Adrenaline takes over, and I attempt to kick him, but he\u2019s too fast, chuckling as he pushes down on my ankles. He then begins to bound them with coarse rope. <\/span><\/p>\n Once he tugs at my restraints, it sounds like he stands. I try to kick my feet out, but they\u2019re tied to something hard beneath me. I\u2019m bound. Hands and feet. And gagged. I\u2019m not going anywhere. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cShe tied up?\u201d I almost sigh in relief when I hear the American. He was the only one who showed me an iota of mercy. The other two scare me. The American doesn\u2019t. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes, like a present. You want to unwrap her?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n I suddenly feel so objectified and dirty and attempt to recoil, but I can\u2019t move. My heart is racing, and my breathing is uneven. The tears have long dried as I\u2019m awaiting their next move. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cShut the fuck up and let\u2019s go.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n That was not the response I was expecting. The Russian laughs. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cCalm down, <\/span>\u043d\u0435\u0443\u0434\u0430\u0447\u043d\u0438\u043a<\/span>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cFuck you. Up on deck now.\u201d The American talks big and seems to be calling the shots. I wonder who he is?<\/span><\/p>\n My only clue to what\u2019s going on is what I hear, and before the hatch closes, I\u2019m presented with clue number one. \u201cBe in Turkey soon. I hope you don\u2019t get seasick, Saint.\u201d Then the hatch closes, leaving me with the sound of the muted voices above me. <\/span><\/p>\n Turkey? Why are we going there? But more importantly, I just uncovered the name of my American captor\u2026Saint. <\/span><\/p>\n Ironic, isn\u2019t it, that someone who bears a name denoting nothing but holiness can deliver nothing but hell. <\/span><\/p>\n Bon voyage. <\/span><\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n |
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