“You don’t want to answer me? Then you better kill me. Because that’s the only way you’re walking out of here.”
Silent tears cut tracks through the blood spatter on her cheeks while she holds herself rigid.
“Do it,” I press. “There’s only one way this ends. With me dead, or you talking.”
A war rages behind her eyes. She knows that if she doesn’t pull that trigger, there’s no escaping what’s coming next.
Steel trembles against my Adam’s apple. I close my own eyes and wait for the click that’ll end it all. It never comes. Instead, she makes a sound that’s half sob, half curse.
“Fuck you,” she grits out. The pistol clatters down beside us as she turns her face away from me, her shoulders heaving with the weight of her surrender.
That’s all it takes to snap my self-control. Fisting my hand into her braid, I haul her mouth to mine, our mouths colliding so hard my lip splits against my teeth. Blood leaks into the kiss, hot and coppery, but she swallows it down, sucking my tongue into her mouth with a pull so carnal I see stars.
The kiss turns frantic and breathless, but I drag it out, memorizing her taste. My hand leaves her hair to grip her throat, feeling her pulse hammer against my palm while my other hand shoves between her thighs. She's wet for me, soaked through her leggings, and when I press hard against her clit she bites down on my lower lip. Her hips buck against my hand, chasing the pressure, and I grind the heel of my palm against her while she whimpers into my mouth.
I want to commit every detail to memory, because I know it's the last time I'll let myself have this.
The sound of heavy footsteps brings reality crashing back. I force myself to pull away, my hand slipping from between her legs, both of us panting hard.
Miron appears in the doorway, his eyes widening as he takes in the scene in front of him.
I haul us both to our feet as my soldier approaches.
“I’ll call the clean-up crew,” he says, recovering quickly. “Back exit is clear and there’s a car waiting for you in the alley.”
I scoop the gun off the floor and shove it back into my waistband.
Evelina gives me a pleading look, as if it might buy my mercy. It doesn’t. I fish two zip ties out of my pocket. She tenses but she doesn’t try to fight me.
Pulling both arms behind her back, I secure her wrists. Other than an annoyed huff, she stays silent, and I wonder how far I’ll have to go to make her talk.
Probably further than I want to. The realization settles like lead in my gut, but I’ll do what needs to be done.
I plant my hand in the center of her back to keep her steady as I crouch down, fastening her ankles together with a heavy-duty plastic flex-cuff from my belt.
“Are you serious? You’re tying me up like I’m an animal?”
“Oh,kotyonok, I’m about to do much worse, so save your complaining until we get to the fun part.”
She bucks against the restraints. One final act of defiance. But there’s nowhere for her to go. Miron reaches into his jacket and produces a small syringe, passing it over. These situations require preparation, and we always come prepared.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Evelina twists to see what I’m holding.
The needle slides into her neck and I depress the plunger. She gasps, eyes wide with shock and fury before her body sags and her lashes flutter closed.
“Make sure nothing that happened tonight gets back to my father,” I instruct Miron, swinging her unconscious body over my shoulder. “When you’re done here, take a crew to her apartment. Tear it apart until you figure out who she really is, because she sure as shit isn’t who she claims to be. Call me when you find something.”
“Understood.”
I take one last look at Spider’s corpse before walking out, leaving the old bastard to whatever hell waits for him.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
KIRILL
Evelina’s shiveringwhen she wakes up. Her bare skin is covered in goose bumps, nipples hard against the black lace of her bra.
