I stare at her. “You make it all sound so easy.”
“As easily as you make it sound to take a man’s life like it doesn’t mean anything?”
This woman. This incredible, unexpected woman who walked into my world as collateral for her father's debts and is now standing here, casually suggesting a counterintelligence operation that would make my most seasoned capos proud.
“Hmmm, you remind me more and more of my mother every single day. She was always an advocate for keeping people alive, just like you, Valentina.”
The silence stretches between us while she waits for my decision. But I think we both already know.
"You know," I say slowly, "for someone who claims to hate this world, you're surprisingly good at playing in it."
The flush returns to her cheeks, but she doesn't look away. "I've always been a quick study."
"Apparently." I step closer, eliminating the distance between us, my hand coming up to cup her jaw. "I'm starting to think I underestimated you."
"Most people do."
"I won't make that mistake again." I lean down, brushing my lips against her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth. "Your suggestion has merit. I'll consider it."
"Consider it?" She pulls back slightly, eyebrow raised. "That's it?"
"I'm giving a traitor his life because my fiancée asked me to. That's not nothing."
"I suppose not." But she's smiling now and the sight of it makes me smile.
"Go back to the house. I'll deal with Vladimir with your... modifications. And here." I hand her my phone
“Let her know someone needs to pick him up at the same spot where he was picked up in one hour. He still betrayed us, so if Volcov gets a hold of him, he’s on his own.”
She looks down at the phone like she’s shocked I’m actually handing it to her.
“What? You’re only ok to go through and read messages without my permission?” I ask and she tenses.
“I mean, the message said please don’t kill him in big bold letters,” she says rolling her eyes.
“Go, and I don’t want to see you back here again, is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
She starts walking back toward the main house, and I watch her go. The graceful line of her back, the confident set of her shoulders.
"Valentina."
She turns, pausing mid-step.
"Don't get too good at this." I let a smirk pull at my mouth. "Or I may have to revoke my offer to let you go after the wedding."
I can see the blush that spreads across her cheeks. She opens her mouth, closes it, then shakes her head with a rueful smile.
"You say that like it's a threat," she calls back. "Maybe I'm starting to think it's a promise."
Then she's gone, disappearing around the corner, leaving me with a traitor waiting for judgment and a heart that's beating in ways it has no business beating.
I turn back toward the warehouse, my mind already shifting into operational mode. Ugh, Vladimir gets to live. He'll become the weapon we aim at the Volkov family, their own trusted informant turned against them. And if he so much as breathes wrong? Well. Valentina gave him a second chance. She never said anything about a third.
I push open the warehouse door, and my men snap to attention.
"Change of plans, gentlemen." I approach Vladimir, who looks up at me with desperate, disbelieving hope. "You're going to live. But you're going to wish you hadn't."
