“You’re wrong.”
“You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“I know what men like him are capable of.” I lean closer and brace my hands against the door on either side of her head. “I’ve killed men like him. Men who hurt women. Men who use children as weapons. Men who think they’re untouchable because they have money and connections and people who are too afraid to stand against them.”
She sucks in a shaky breath. “What are you saying?”
“Say the word.” My mouth hovers inches from her ear. “Say yes, and I’ll end him. Tonight. Before he ever has a chance to touch you or Kira again.”
The quiet wraps around us. I feel her body shaking against mine and her body heat even through her wet clothes. Feel the moment when something inside her snaps.
She kisses me.
Her mouth crashes against mine, and the world narrows to this single point of contact. Fear and loneliness pour through her lips, and she twists her fingers into the front of my shirt and yanks me closer. Her body arches off the door and molds itself against me.
I freeze just long enough to register her taste; rain and salt and something sweeter underneath. Then, the last thread of my restraint snaps, and I’m kissing her back with everything I’ve held in check since the day I walked through her door.
I cup her face in both hands and tilt her head back. She parts her lips, and I sweep my tongue inside to claim every corner of her mouth. A moan vibrates against me, and the sound travels straight down my spine.
I pull back just enough to see her face. Her eyes are dark and glassy, hungry in a way that makes my blood run hot.
But I don’t let her pull me back in yet.
“What did he ask you to do tonight?”
She tries to kiss me again, but I turn my head so her lips land on my jaw.
“Pyotr—”
“Answer me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” I grab her chin and force her to meet my eyes. “You sat across from him for forty-five minutes. You let him put his hands on you. You came home looking like you’d been gutted. So, tell me what he said that made you look like that.”
Her lower lip trembles. “He gave me a task. Something I’m supposed to do before he arrives.”
“What task?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.” She shoves against my chest, but I don’t budge. “Let me go.”
“No.”
“Pyotr—”
“I’m done being patient, Daria.” I pin her against the door with my body. “I’m done watching you carry this alone while he tightens the noose.”
“You can’t help me. No one can.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
She stares at me, breathing hard. I watch the fear and shame warring in her eyes. The desperate need to trust someone after years of having no one.
“He wants me to betray you,” she finally whispers. “To get information from you about Dmitri and the family.”
