“If he forces my hand,” I lie.
“You told Gavriil you’d protect me.”
“I will.” I meet her eyes. “The rest depends on your brother.” I’m not sure if I could harm even a hair on her lovely, blameless head. I hated ripping off the damn duct tape from her mouth. I should have hated tearing her shirt.
I can stab a traitor in the heart without hesitation, but when it comes to innocent people…I have to draw a line somewhere, even if Gavriil won’t.
Alina studies me—smart, sharp, like she knows that I’m full of shit. Her shoulders finally drop an inch. Then, “I want a phone.”
“No.”
Alina glares at me and walks away. She’s planning. Thinking. Always thinking.
I know she’s not giving up, just retreating until she comes up with a better idea. She’s becoming more anxious, losing confidence in her brother coming through for her. No telling what she might try. “If you don’t start bringing in your food trays, I’m taking back the key so they can be delivered directly to your lap!” I shout after her in warning.
Even one tray going untouched today is unacceptable.
The woman has to eat. It’s not her life that’s ending anytime soon. Just her brother’s.
A few minutes later, the elevator chimes.
Gavriil dropping by unexpectedly again?
I pull up the security feed. Viktor opens the door. A man on the other side gives him a brown bag, and he brings it to my desk without comment and then lurks wordlessly in the space.
I’m one to talk about eating when I only remember to do it if food is shoved in front of me.
And today I’ve been too busy worrying about a woman who refused her tray.
My phone buzzes before I can open the bag.
“Boss,” Viktor says, though I’ve already seen the name.Pakhan.
“Progress?” Gavriil asks in Russian.
“Archer responded. He’s down to seventy hours,” I tell him.
“He’ll try to stall,” he mutters. “You won’t allow it.”
“Of course not. He shows with the money and takes his punishment, or he runs and dies.”
Even if Alina hates me for it.
Her opinion shouldn’t matter.
It does.
“How is our pretty little hostage?” Gavriil asks, amused because he knows exactly where my mind went.
Behind a door locked with a key I gave her. “Calm. Keeping to herself.” Boring is the message I’m trying to convey.
“She’s too beautiful to be hidden away,” Gavriil remarks. “You should’ve sent me a video from her photo shoot.”
“I took the photos you requested.”
“And kept others just for yourself?” he guesses correctly followed by a dangerous chuckle. “Getting so protective already.”
“That’s because she’s innocent,” I snap. “Just a means to an end.”
