Another giggle, this one edged with something bitter. “I’m good with computers, remember?”
“Evelina.” I put steel in my voice, a warning she’s too far gone to recognize. “Focus.”
“I was looking for my mother.”
“Your mother?” I rewind to what she told me days ago. “Your mother committed suicide.”
Her lids drift closed before she forces them open again. “No. No, she didn’t. It was like she did, but … She disappeared when I was six years old. Abandoned us, that’s what I always thought. But then…” Her teeth chatter. I have the urge to get her a blanket, but I make myself stay where I am. She deserves this. “I had these dreams. Memories coming back. Men with domed cathedral tattoos taking her away in the middle of the night. It led me here. To you. Your family. And eventually to Spider.”
The cathedral domes. The Kupola Network.
“The poker game,” I mutter. “When Abram rolled up his sleeve and you saw his tattoo. That’s why you lost your shit and spilled the drink.”
She nods, the movement sloppy. “Same one from my nightmares. Overheard them talking. They mentioned Spider and the good old days.”
My thumb brushes across her cheekbone and comes away wet.
“Spider trafficked your mother?” The thought sits in my gut like lead.
“I thought so, but…” She shakes her head, trying to reshuffle her thoughts. “He denied it. Said he would know if she came through the Network.”
“How would he know?” They must’ve moved hundreds of women through the pipeline.
She’s getting distracted, her mind wandering and thoughts scattering like light through broken glass.
“Look at me.” I shake her gently, bringing her back. “How would he know?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Can’t.” She presses her lips together, trying to lock in her secret.
“You can. I’m not my father. I was never involved in that shit, and you know that.”
“I don’t know anything.” She sighs heavily. Her attention drops to my mouth and lingers there. “The only thing I know is that I shouldn’t want you like this. You look at me and I forget how to breathe. You touch me and I forget why I’m supposed to stay away.”
The confession steals the air from my lungs. My forehead drops to rest against hers and I breathe her in, trying to make sense of what’s happening.
She swallows hard. “You’re so damn hot. Even now. Even like this, I can’t stop wanting you.”
When I pull back, her pupils are blown wide, her lips parted and wet. Her nipples tighten against the thin fabric and the air thickens with her arousal.
“Stay with me,” I rasp, not wanting to get caught in her web. “What’s your real name?”
She strains toward me, fighting the restraints. “Touch me. Please, Kirill.”
I swallow hard, my throat going dry. “This is a reaction to the drugs. They lower inhibitions and heighten arousal. That’s all it is, Evelina.”
“I don’t care why.” She pushes against her bindings and the chair creaks under the strain. “I’m begging you to touch me. I need you.”
Fuck. I let one hand fall away and drag the other from her jaw down to her throat, fingers pressing against the side of her neck.She chases my palm with a shameless desperation that makes my control splinter.
“You’ll hate me for this tomorrow,” I say roughly, distracted by the taut line of her nipples, the way her thighs are spread and bound.
“You want me as much as I want you.” Her chin gestures to the bulge straining against my pants. “I can see it.”
My voice comes out wrecked. “Of course I want you. I want you so bad I can’t see straight, but I don’t fuck liars.”
