The room tilts beneath my feet. I press my palms to my temples and squeeze as if that might help me understand. “Un-tell him, then. Go back and say, ‘Just kidding, she’s just a random girl I abducted. Feel free to shoot her.’ I’ll take my chances!”
He sips his drink, those winter-cold eyes never straying from mine. “No, you won’t. He’s the Pakhan. The head of the Kozlovs. My family.”
My blood runs cold.
Three simple words. A statement of fact.
He’s the Pakhan.Even I know what that title means. Roman is the boss and patriarch. The man at the very top of Alexei’s bloody, brutal family tree. The pinnacle of the Russian mafia food chain.
My legs act before my brain issues the command. They pace back and forth across the frigid concrete floor, each stride quicker than the last. My thoughts race even faster. The man who just left—Roman—would kill me without hesitation. I’m nothing to him. No, worse than nothing. I’m a loose end. A potential witness. A problem to eliminate.
Unless I marry into the family.
I drag a hand over my face. “This is insane. Completely freaking insane.”
“Agreed. But we’re both still alive. And if I hadn’t come up with that idea, he’d have killed you.” The tumbler dangles from his fingers, glistening in the light as I pass. He tracks my every motion like I’m prey he’s not quite ready to pounce on.
I’m trapped.
If I stay, I’m his.
Tethered to Alexei in a way I never conceived of. My heart pounds for reasons I don’t want to examine too closely.
But if I run, where would I go?
He found me once. He’d find me again.
And Gio? He wants me dead. He’s already threatened Sam. Twice. Fleeing just places a bigger target on my sister’s back.
I’m caught between two predators—two organized crime families—with nowhere to run.
My body trembles as my mind races through the perils and inanities of the situation. “But…fiancée?” The word tastes foreign. “We can’t get married. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know your favorite color. You probably don’t even have a favorite color, do you? If you say gray, I’m going to slap you.”
He snorts, then coughs. Either he’s masking a laugh, or the bastard choked on his vodka.
I could never be so lucky.
I spin on my heel, glaring over my shoulder. “You’re a Scorpio, aren’t you? Oh my god.”
His lips curve into a dangerous grin.
“This isn’t funny! We can’t get married. You’re a…”Criminalhovers on the tip of my tongue but instead, I finish lamely with, “…gun enthusiast.”
He quirks an eyebrow but remains silent.
“And I’m a cocktail waitress with an art degree I never finished because my grandmother died and I had to take care of Samantha. Now I’m so behind on her tuition that they’re threatening to drop her from next semester’s classes. I have three unpaid parking tickets, and my phone bill is two months overdue, and my credit score is a joke, and I can barely afford to buy groceries, and?—”
“Money?” He sets down his glass, head tilting to the left. “You need money?”
I stop pacing, startled by the interruption. “What?”
“Mo-ney.” He enunciates the word as if I might not understand the concept. “You need money? I have plenty.” That statement—so simple, so matter-of-fact—leaves me speechless. “How much do you need?”
A high, brittle laugh escapes me. “I don’t want your damn money!”
Even as the words leave my mouth, Samantha’s face flashes in my mind. Her future. Her safety. Everything I’ve sacrificed for her hangs in the balance.
Alexei crosses the distance between us in three long strides. Before I can retreat, he cups my cheeks.
