"Fine... fine, Igor." She backed away two steps, suddenly pulling something from her expensive purse.
An elegant perfume bottle—at least it looked like perfume. Security hadn't taken it away. But when Natasha pressed thenozzle, it wasn't ordinary perfume that sprayed out—it was a strange mist, aimed straight at my face.
I instinctively held my breath, but too late. I'd inhaled some.
"You..." Sudden fatigue swept over me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed back into the chair. "You bitch, what did you do to me?"
I gritted my teeth, trying to lift my arms, but they were impossibly heavy. I failed.
"Just something to make you behave. You think you're so powerful, Igor?" Natasha dropped the bottle, her face flushed with sick excitement. "You're just a man. A man who needs to be taught a lesson."
She spread her legs, straddling my thighs.
"No..." I tried to push her off, but my body wouldn't obey. The drug had paralyzed my muscles, leaving only my consciousness.
"Shh—" She leaned down, lips against my ear. "You'll like it. You'll remember what you should have."
She ground against me, trying to arouse a response. She started undoing my belt.
Rage exploded inside me like lava. This damned, sick woman!
Just as she lowered her head to kiss my lips, my right hand shot up with muscle-tearing speed, grabbing her throat.
"Ugh—" All her movements stopped.
My hand trembled from the drug, but all my strength concentrated in those five fingers.
"I'll kill you!" My voice was dangerous and hoarse.
Natasha's face turned purple, her eyes bulging in terror. Her hands clawed frantically at my wrist, nails drawing blood on my skin.
"Igor... ugh..." She couldn't make a sound.
I wanted to crush her, make her pay for touching me. The drug pulled at my consciousness, but my killing intent was stronger. My fingers tightened another inch. I heard the sickening creak of her throat bones. Just as she was about to suffocate, survival instinct gave her a final burst of strength. She threw herself backward with everything she had, tumbling off my knees and crashing to the floor.
Natasha curled up like a dying fish, coughing desperately, gaspingfor air. After a moment, she crawled backward, grabbing her coat, staring at me in terror as if seeing a demon.
I gripped the armrests, trying to stand, but my body still wouldn't cooperate. Seeing I couldn't get up, her fear faded slightly, replaced by deeper hatred.
"You... you maniac!" she screamed, her voice hoarse. "You really would have killed me, you bastard!"
Then she threw on her coat and stumbled out of the office.
I slumped in the chair, breathing hard. I looked down at myself—my belt half undone. Violence coiled in my chest. The damned drug finally began wearing off. I took a deep breath and refastened my belt.
The wallet still lay on the desk, the "I.V." glinting in the dim light. I reached for it, and the moment my fingertips touched the leather, I felt alive again.
I looked at the wallet in my hand, whispering. "Wait for me, Elena. No matter where you are, no matter how long it takes."
I would become stronger, strong enough that no one would dare stand in my way. Then I'd go to Italy, step onto Salvatore's territory, and bring Elena home. This time, I wouldn't let anyone—including my own weakness—become an obstacle.
Chapter Eleven
Elena
Midnight. A warm rush surged between my thighs, yanking me from the haze of half-sleep. I froze, staring down at the soaked sheets, my heart hammering in my throat. "No, no, no... not now."
My trembling fingers fumbled for my phone on the nightstand and hit Marco's number.
