I shrug, and breaking eye contact, I get to work on removing all the blood from his face. I don’t know why, but instead of keeping quiet like I should, I whisper, “Boris is my father.”
Georgi raises his eyebrow, and it has me saying, “Don’t move your eyebrow. The cut will start bleeding again.”
“Like you care.” My gaze darts to his, and whatever he sees on my face makes him frown. “You can stop with the act, sweetheart. You have me all chained up.” He leans his head a little down, his intense hazel gaze once again taking mine captive. “I’m at your mercy.” I feel the warmth of his breath, and realizing how close our faces are, I jerk backward and lose my balance.
Georgi moves to catch me, but with his wrists shackled, he can’t. His muscle strain and the chains rattle from his attempt to help as I go down hard.
The back of my head slams into the concrete, and I accidentally bite my tongue. The bottle of antiseptic fluid rolls to the side, clinking against the wall when it comes to a standstill.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Vasil, one of the guards, shouts angrily.
Georgi ignores Vasil and looks at me as he asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter softly. Sitting up, I rub the goose egg forming beneath my ponytail. “I slipped and fell, Vasil. You can leave.”
The guard glares at me. “No funny business or I’ll tell Boris.”
The threat clears my mind, and I get back to work. Picking up the antiseptic bottle, I return it to the cabinet before taking out the skin glue.
Aware that Vasil is watching my every move, I return to Georgi and set the bucket right before I climb on it again.
Doing my best not to make eye contact with the Sicilian who has me feeling weird things, I twist the cap open and brush some of the bonding liquid over the cut by his eyebrow.
The instant I’m done, I move the bucket back to where I found it and place the glue in the cabinet. When I rush toward the doorway, Vasil steps out of the way so I can pass.
I hurry to my bedroom and quickly shut the door before taking a deep breath. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I glance at the wall between Georgi and me.
“I hear you’re some big shot mob boss,” I hear Vasil’s muted voice, his accent heavy. A few seconds later, he lets out a bark of laughter. “You don’t look like a big shot.”
“Come closer, and say that to my face,” Georgi growls, his tone so low and deadly that it makes goose bumps erupt over my skin.
“You’re restrained cocksucker,” Vasil taunts him. “What do you think you can do?”
Suddenly, I hear chains rattle and horrible choking sounds. Footsteps pound past my door in the hallway, then Martin, one of the other gaurds shout, “Let him go!”
With wide eyes, I listen to the commotion.
“Son of a bitch,” Martin shouts again. A gunshot rings through the air, making my entire body jerk.
More boots hit the concrete hard as men run past my room, then suddenly someone pounds on my door and shoves it open.
Martin glares at me as he orders, “Come patch up the piece of shit.”
Reluctantly, my body moves forward while fear creeps into my mind.
Not knowing what I’m about to see, my breaths come faster than normal over my lips. Just as I step out of my bedroom, two of the guards pull Vasil’s body into the hallway.
His open eyes are frozen with a look I’ve seen before. Death.
Holy shit. How did he die?
I press close to the cold wall as I slowly walk toward the other room.
“What the fuck is going on down here?!” Petar, the head of the guards, roars as he comes down the stairs.
Just as I step into the doorway, and my eyes flit over Georgi, who has a wide grin on his face, Martin says, “The dog broke Vasil’s neck. I had to shoot him.”
I see the blood seeping from Georgi’s thigh as Petar asks, “How?”
