"And then?"
"And then, if everything goes according to plan, you'll be done…" I frown when he doesn't elaborate about what "done" means and when I'll go home, but things have been pleasant today. I don't want to start something that will make this frustrating.
I take another sip, larger this time, letting the alcohol warm my belly. "Tell me more about how your family will pressure the Veches to stop the trafficking."
Lev studies me for a moment with dark eyes. Then he leans back against the cushions and begins to explain. "The Veche family expects Ana to be gone because that's the line they've fed people. Yaros has told everyone Ana is away visiting family, but we have intel that suggests he removed her."
My eyebrows go up and he tips his glass up, finishing his drink, then continues. "My uncle thinks we've stumbled upon a mutiny. That Yaros has killed his sister and is covering it up long enough to put pieces in place to take over. If that happens, we're done. Our goal is to send his family into chaos."
"And then?"
"And then we apply pressure to come clean or risk losing all of his allies…" Lev sets his drink down and faces me fully. "In that chaos, we seize their trade routes and fortify them, and we stop them from working their business."
I sip my whiskey and let it burn as I think about how sinister this plan is. If Ana's brother really did murder her, who's to say they won't also come after me when they think she's alive and back from the dead? And if not, who's to say an enemy of hers won't also do the same?
I shake the thought loose and remember why I'm doing this. If nothing good comes from this except a few girls being rescued, it's still a worthy cause. I'm still doing a good thing.
"You're doing a good thing," I hear myself say. "Even if… even if all of this is crazy and wrong and terrifying. What you're trying to do for those women… It's the right thing."
Lev studies me as he leans closer, and I watch his eyes dip to my lips. I can tell he's thinking of kissing me. But he restrains himself, which only makes him that much more attractive to me.
"I'll do what it takes," I continue, emboldened by the warmth spreading through my limbs. "To free those women. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it." I don't intend for my words to sound seductive, but I watch his jaw tighten, and I feel a rush of power that's intoxicating. This man—this dangerous, powerful, beautiful man—wants me. He's barely holding himself back.
"You should be careful," he growls from low in his chest. "Saying things like that to a man like me."
"Why?" The alcohol is making me feel a little bold and reckless. "What will you do?" I haven't eaten all day. I haven't drunk in years, either. I swore off it when I was just old enough to live on my own. I know it will only cause problems for me, but today it felt acceptable. How else was I going to calm my nerves? And now my head is spinning.
"Vivika."
"What?" I smile, and it feels different on my face—flirtatious, inviting. "I'm just asking a question."
"You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk," I say, maybe a little too defensively. My head is spinning, but I'm not wasted. He stands, taking the glass from my hands with gentle but firm fingers. "You're not a drinker are you?" he asks, and I scowl.
"I feel fine."
"You won't in the morning." He sets my glass beside his on the table, then reaches down and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet. The room spins and I sway against him, my hands landing on his chest. His body is rigid. I can feel the curves of his muscles under my palms. It makes my core ache.
Now I wonder if he drugged me. I mean, I'm not this much of a lightweight. I had one drink, not a bottle, and I wouldn't be feeling it this quickly, would I?
"Lev," I murmur, looking up at him through lashes that feel suddenly heavy. His eyes drop to my lips again, and he growls as he clenches his teeth. I'm foolish. I'm throwing myself at him for no reason. He doesn't want me for anything but his little scheme, and though his eyes scream out how aroused he is and his dick serves notice against my thigh, he's still rejecting me.
"Your eyes say you want me, Mr. Gravitch." Even when I try using Ana Veche's tone and demeanor, standing straighter, he still remains rigid. "Don’t you?"
"If I want what you're offering," he mumbles against my ear, taking his sweet time to let the stubble scrape and the heat penetrate my skin. "I'll take it when you're sober. When you can remember every detail—not like this."
My hand slides across his body, past his belt to the bulge in his slacks that unmistakably proves I'm right, but he removes it from my grasp and picks me up, cradling me as he carries meout the door. My eyes flutter shut a few times and I know he's drugged me. I feel helpless and angry, and my eyes well up with tears at the thought of his rejection, but then we're in a dark room and I'm feeling so tired.
"Sleep," he says, lowering me onto a bed.
I try to respond, but my tongue feels thick and clumsy and my eyes are closing without my permission. I feel his hands on me, carefully removing my shoes and then the constraining dress I've been wearing all day. His fingers graze my skin as he works, leaving trails of warmth in their wake, and I want to pull him down onto the bed beside me, but the words won't come.
The last thing I'm aware of before the darkness takes me is the weight of a blanket being pulled over my body.
9
LEV
