Sitnikov dragged her through the house without another word to Boris, who continued to stand stoically by the front doors. Jane was forced to hurry after Sitnikov, his iron grip on her wrist never slackening. She was confused when they exited the back of the house and glanced around looking for where he might be headed. Her bare feet barely had time to touch the spongy grass as he pulled her mercilessly behind him toward the tree line far back on the property. Finally she saw it, the place he must be taking her too. It was a concrete wall with a door built into the side of a rise in the landscaping.
When they approached the wall he unlocked the door using a keypad and heaved it open. The chill air washed over her, causing her to unconsciously step closer to her tormentor in a fruitless attempt at finding warmth and security. She was horrified at all the possibilities for his having an underground facility on his property. This would be where he conducted the business that couldn't be done in the house, the less savoury aspects of running an underground organization. A shudder of fear and disgust swept through her and she had to lock her teeth together to force back a plea of mercy. He had none and, even if he took pity on her, she would hate herself for asking.
She was surprised when they started passing row after row of wine racks. He had brought her to a wine cellar? Jane was puzzled, but somewhat relieved until he led her past the wine section and further into the back. There was another door. This one could easily pass for a maintenance closet except it was solid metal. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t where he kept the janitorial supplies. The door swung open to reveal a cell with a narrow cot, a dirty mattress and a toilet without a tank lid.
Sitnikov swung her around and pushed her through the open door into the cell. She barely noticed when he let go, instead standing in gaping shock at the terrifying prospect of her new prison. She turned around to face him, staring at him defiantly. He stood on the other side watching her, his eyes black pools of ice. No emotion flickered in their depths.
“I give you one opportunity to rethink your position on lying to me,” he said calmly. “Otherwise, you can spend the night thinking about it while enjoying your new accommodations.”
Jane stared at him as fury swept through her small body, warming her from the inside out. If he thought he was going to get his way through this bullshit, he didn’t know her very well at all. She was happy to enlighten him.
"You think I'll give you anything, ever, after this?! Fuck you, Sitnikov. Fuck you! You'll get nothing from me. I despise you." She spat at him, stabbing a shaking finger at him.
"Your mistake, malysh," he replied calmly, meeting her eyes with a dead stare, "is in thinking I require your consent for anything. I will take what I want from you when I want it, Jane."
She breathed heavily, nearly gagging on the dank air of his hidden dungeon. "Maybe so, Sitnikov. You're much stronger than me physically. You can and will take what you want from my body. But you won't get a damn thing else. And make no mistake," she snarled, "I will fight you every step of the way until one of us is dead."
He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "You are an innocent, my Jane. A babe among men. This is why you are malysh to me. You think you will die before I break your mind? I can assure you otherwise. You will be completely mine. Every part of you, mine. I will not rest until you obey my every wish and do so with pleasure. Then, I will have what I want. I will make you scream and beg for my mercy. Until that time, I will enjoy the challenge."
"You're a sadistic monster, Vladimir Sitnikov."
"Finally," he agreed, "you begin to understand me.”
He closed the door softly and locked it.