“Now!” I demand and the weight of the weapon instantly drops into my hand along with the reason for his hesitancy, an idiotic Russian superstition about never taking a blade directly from another man. That it severs ties or some nonsense.
Too late now.
I slice the blade slowly across Nazar’s neck while he stares up at me, eyes bulging, mouth gasping.
And my first thought when his body goes limp is that maybe I should’ve sent Alina away first. I didn’t expect to kill him in front of her, just rough him up.
But she needs to see the chaos she’s caused firsthand.
In my fucking life and my business.
Dropping the knife on the ground, I wipe the blood dripping from my hand onto Nazar’s shirt before turning to face her.
My heart races faster than it did killing a man as she stares at me in the aftermath, her lips pursed, still as a statue before she finally speaks. “I already knew you were a monster before you killed him.”
“Good,” I reply.
“Did you want me to watch so I would be scared of you?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not,” she replies with her chin stubbornly raised.
Why do those words feel like a weight has been lifted off my soul?
I’m filled with relief, and yet all I can think about is that I want her so fucking badly that I can barely breathe.
I’m still afraid of what will happen if I let her get too close. I don’t want to screw up like my brother, but the thought of not having her like I want her causes me actual pain. It’s agonizing.
I need her now, before this hunger turns into something I can’t hold back.
Before all of this pent-up anger and uncertainty and desire destroy me from the inside out.
“Alina. Come,” I say, crooking my finger at her.
She glances once more at Nazar’s body before she walks over to me.
“Good girl,” I murmur as I reach out, testing her brave words. I stroke a strand of her hair between my fingertips with my blood-free left hand, and she doesn’t so much as flinch. “How long will you continue to obey me tonight?”
Alina’s brow furrows. “What?”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” I tell her before grabbing one of her wrists. “Leon is free to go,” I instruct Pyotr before leading her out of the interrogation room.
We head up two flights of stairs to reach my bedroom, her questions bouncing off the walls as I continue to ignore them. My blood runs hot the entire time as I pull her into the cage and fish the extra key for her handcuffs out of my pocket.
“You shouldn’t have lashed out and killed him so fast,” Alina comments. “That other man was right. It’s what he wanted.”
So, she thinks I should’ve let him suffer a little longer?
I smirk as I take off the cuffs and stuff them in the back pocket of my pants.
“What if he had more information? You could’ve found out who else the Irish are working with.”
“You think I should’ve tortured him?” I ask in surprise.
“That’s what Dominik would’ve done with tools and a plastic sheet.”
She looks so sweet, but deep down, she’s fucking ruthless. And I find that sexy as hell.
