He glanced down at my source of amusement, then chuckled. “They did not want me to hang myself with my shoelaces. Took my belt too. Grebaniye ublyudki.” Fucking bastards. Grasping the bars, he slid his gaze down my body with narrowed eyes like he was trying to see into my soul. “I thought you would be . . . different.” He assumed he’d find me a ghost of myself, not dressed in bright yellow without a physical wound in sight. “T’ll admit, being locked in his guest room for days on end really sucked, but other than that, it hasn’t been the worst situation for me.” His presence exuded frustration. “Why must you always make light of things?” “Pm not. I really haven’t been treated that poorly.” He released a caustic sound and pushed away from the bars to pace. “You have been degraded, drugged, held captive, poisoned, and God knows what else. I would hate to see what you consider poor treatment.” “How do you know all that?” He cast me a dark look. “I have my ways.” Continuing to walk the perimeter of his cell, he said, “The blood thing. How did that disappear, Mila?” His anger burned like fuel against my skin. I chewed my lip nervously. “A walk in the underworld, I suppose.” “Which you seem to be handling well.” It felt like he was accusing me of something. “Don’t look at me like I’m happy about these circumstances just because it rid me of my phobia. I’d rather be fainting at a mud run again in Miami than have you locked up here and my papa’s life in jeopardy.” “Interesting you have not said anything about your own situation.” I grew flustered. “Of course I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore.” “You seemed so . . . comfortable”—he almost sneered the word—“with your kidnapper in the dining room.” My throat felt thick. “It was breakfast, Ivan, not a cozy heart-to-heart.” He made a noncommittal noise. “You know they do not call him ‘D’yavol’ for nothing, do you not?” “I’m aware.” This conversation couldn’t be more uncomfortable if bugs were crawling beneath my skin. I never said the right thing when I was unsettled. “He doesn’t like sugar in his tea.” Ivan shot me an aggravated expression.