“You betrayed my family,” Tatiana says coolly. “Put the gun down so we can talk like friends again.”
I was never her friend. She used me to get intel. She used me to do her dirty work.
I shake my head as her gaze flicks to the scars along my side. “No. You don’t rule me anymore. And you’re only here because I have something you want. Which means we do this my way.”
She laughs.
“Keep your fucking voice down,” I hiss.
Her eyes widen for a split second before that slow smile returns. The kind that never brings anything good. “Yes,” she murmurs. “You have something I want. And you’re only doing this to protect someone you love.”
My heart slams, but I don’t let it show.
“Drago,” she sighs, stepping closer.
Every muscle in my body tightens as she invades my space.
“I didn’t betray you,” I say coldly. “I betrayed your piece-of-shit rapist brother. I saved a little girl and her mother from his terror.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t deny it. Just nods.
“Betrayal is betrayal,” she replies. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t trust me.”
I scoff. “Do you blame me, Natalia?”
Her eyes snap to mine, rage flooding behind them, and I grin. She needs to remember how much I know about the real her. She’s been hiding behind disguises for a long time, yet I know the real woman.
“Oh, is that a threat?” she says with a smirk.
I shake my head. “Nope. Just a slip of the tongue. It’s very easy to do. Tatiana, Natalia. Very similar.”
Her smile doesn’t falter. She has perfected it into an art, believing she’s untouchable. She takes another step closer.
“You’ll never take power when you’re running from ghosts, Tatiana. You know you’ll have to deal with them soon,” I tell her.
I still to this day don’t know what Enzo wants with her, but it’s something life-altering, probably for everyone involved. That war is coming. I know it. She knows it. I’m surprised it’s taking this long. But Enzo is always one step ahead. If he wanted her, he would have captured her by now. That’s what I can’t figure out. How all these chess pieces are in motion. When is it going to end?
Her nail drags lightly over my abs, up my chest, lingering near the scar. My fist clenches as I fight the urge to shove her across the room.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I warn.
“I always wondered,” she says softly, “what it would be like if you were mine. I think you’d give me everything I needed.”
Not a fucking chance.
“It didn’t happen then,” I say, voice lethal. “It won’t happen now.”
I press the butt of my gun to her throat. “You want the necklace. I want something in return. Are we talking business, or are you leaving?”
I feel the blade press against my side. I don’t react. Fear is her oxygen. Instead, I arch a brow.
“What do you want for it?” she asks.
“The Preacher,” I answer without hesitation. “I’ve seen your men flooding American soil. That’s not coincidence. That’s coordination.”
She sent a man to Lily’s house. That is what this rage is truly about, but I won’t let that slip in front of her.
She laughs again, louder this time, almost deliberately. “You think I can just hand you the Preacher?”
