Amara’s lips pop open and she emits a hot, sweet, trembling breath.
But then I pull back, yanking her hands down and fastening the loose ends of the tie to the chair so she can’t move.
“I’m not going to do that,dorogaya,” I say. “I’ve got too many questions. Why are you following me and what do you know?”
To my surprise, she scoffs in my face. “You have my computer tapped and most likely my phone. You should know I don’t know anything. Other than that you are more dangerous than I thought.”
I let out a gritty laugh. “That’s true. But why?”
“Why… why what?” she asks.
“Why am I dangerous?”
“You’re the CEO of Apex Oil and Gas. You’re a multi-billionaire. Rich men have a lot of power.”
“And?”
“And… that’s all I know.”
I study her. I’m used to being lied to. And considering she has a record of it now, I’m not convinced.
Walk away,I tell myself. If this is a real problem, if she is a threat, I need to treat her like anyone else that goes sniffing around the Bratva.Which means I need to make use of that surgical kit (which is not going to happen) or I need to leave her here. Shut the lights off for the night and come back in the morning when she’s feeling a little more desperate.
But as I stare down at her, I’m having a hard time doing what needs to be done. I’ve never interrogated a woman before. Never had to. And Amara is… different.
The basement suddenly feels wrong for this. Too much like the other interrogations and we all know how those end: with blood and broken bones and black flowers sent anonymously to families who will never see their loved one again. This isn’t some rival family’s spy or a disloyal soldier or a supplier who thought they could fuck me on a deal and get away with it.
This is my assistant.
Maybe I was wrong to bring her here. More than that—and I hate admitting this even to myself—maybe I don't want to break her. Not like this.
If I’m going to get the truth out of her, it needs to be somewhere else. Somewhere I have more control, more options. Somewhere I can take my time.
Without giving her the satisfaction of saying anything, I untie her from the chair. Then, with her hands still bound, I take herout to my car. I can’t take the irresponsible chance of just letting her go and hoping she changes her mind about telling me the truth. But this scenario obviously has to be handled with care. I don’t want to rip out the information I need… I want her togiveit to me.
So we’re going to make a little venue change.
Wordlessly, we drive through the night. I park on the top floor of my parking garage and lead her inside to the penthouse. As I untie her hands, she asks, “What are we doing here? What are you going to do to me?”
I hold up her wallet and her phone that she dropped while we were in the warehouse. “I’m going to hold onto this.”
“Are you going to hurt me?” she asks.
“Only if you keep lying to me. For now, you’re going to stay here.”
I turn to leave, resetting the security to another code. A code that, once locked, can only be unlocked with my phone.
“Wait,” she calls out. “Like… a prisoner?”
“Something like that,” I answer with the smallest of smirks. “I’ll be back soon. Be ready to talk.”
14
AMARA
The penthouse feels much less erotic when I can’t leave.
Obviously, I try.
