The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken suspicion. He knows I'm planning to betray him. And he's right, because it's what he'd do.
But I don't flinch. I meet his gaze, forcing my expression into perfect calm.
"I'll give you a copy," I say. "Hurry. We don't have time."
Victor's eyes narrow, searching my face for cracks. I hold steady, letting my breathing stay even, my shoulders relaxed. Politicians and assassins learn the same skill: how to lie without blinking.
After a moment, he hands me the tablet.
"If you fuck me over..."
"I won't."
I take the tablet, my fingers moving quickly, and plug the adapter into the charging port. The screen starts flickering for about ten seconds, and then a progress bar appears.
0%... 1%... 2%...
"Where did you get that?" Victor asks, looking at it.
"Online," I say, watching the numbers increase, not looking up at him.
"Very funny," he says, crossing his arms.
"Once this is done," he continues, "you're leaving with me, and we're going someplace so I can make a copy."
I glance up. His dark eyes are locked on mine, and there's no humor in his expression. No smirk. Just cold, absolute sincerity.
"I said you'll get one," I say, already thinking of how I'm going to get away.
"I'm serious, Danika," he continues. "You're not running off this time."
I don't reply. I just focus on the damn progress bar as it creeps forward.
12%... 13%...
I try to stand still and not move, acutely aware of Victor's presence looming over me. The air feels charged with a different kind of tension now. Before, it was wrapped in sexual undertones. Now it's as if two predators are forced to share a kill.
I can't take the silence, so I glance up at him, and I can tell instantly by his eyes that the Victor I had before is gone. This man wears the mask of a professional killer now. A mafia man capable of doing everything I can.
I don't like this Victor.
I clear my throat, and just as I'm about to say something to lighten the mood, the front door explodes inward.
Wood splinters from the doorframe as three men storm through the doorway, guns raised.
They fire immediately.
Victor moves faster than I can process, grabbing my arm and spinning me behind him. The tablet slips from my hands and hits the floor. I stumble backward as Victor returns fire, his suppressed pistol sending three rapid shots in their direction.
One guard drops.
Victor puts his hand on my back and pushes me toward the kitchen.
"GO!"
I dive behind the lower cabinets as bullets tear through the air, punching holes in the woodwork above my head and slamming into the granite counter.
Shards of debris rain down on me. I press my back against the cabinet, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
