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Dmitry stood across from the door with one arm wrapped across Alessia’s chest. The muzzle of his gun rested against her temple. Blood marked the corner of her mouth too, a thin line running over her chin from where Levon had probably struck her.
“There you are,” he snarled.
CHAPTER 32
Alessia
My husband’s face was devoid of expression.
Anyone else might have mistaken that emptiness for calm, but I knew better.
He could see the weapon at my head. He could see the blood along my lower lip. Every terrible memory Dmitry had spent weeks dragging to the surface would be screaming at Sergei to fire, to rush the room, and do anything except stand in another doorway while a woman he loved waited to die.
Sergei’s finger rested along the trigger.
“Let her go,” my husband demanded, his voice ringing with lethal intensity.
Dmitry laughed softly beside my ear. “You came all this way, and that is all you have to say?”
“Levon,” Sergei said without looking away from the gun pressed against me. “This room is sealed. Your men are down. The docks belong to the Bellandis, and my family controls every exit.”
Levon’s fingers pressed harder against the document. “Then your wife signs before anyone makes another mistake.”
“Not yet,” Dmitry spoke softly.
Levon turned toward him. “What?”
“He comes inside first.”
“I need her authorization before the node locks us out! Now!”
“And I need him where I can see him.”
“You have him now.”
“He’s not close enough.”
I understood then that Levon needed me alive long enough to put his man inside the Bellandi companies. Dmitry needed me breathing only until Sergei stood near enough to watch me, feel me die.
The entire alliance had been doomed from the start.
I forced myself to breathe slowly, ignoring the cold barrel against my skin and the painful angle of my arms. The tiny ceramic cutter remained hidden inside the seam of my right cuff. I feigned losing my balance and falling forward a little, angling my hips away from Dmitry so he wouldn’t be able to feel what I was about to do. My left fingertips brushed the fabric, found the flattened edge, and began working it loose one careful fraction at a time. Dmitry’s body hid the movement from Sergei. I hoped it hid it from everyone else too.
“You should listen to him, Levon,” I said.
The gun pressed harder against my temple.
“Shut up,” Dmitry snarled.
“He doesn’t care whether I sign or not, Levon,” I continued anyway.
Levon looked at me, seething with anger.
Dmitry’s arm tightened. “She’s just buying time.”
“Obviously.” I held Levon’s gaze. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“You will sign,” Levon ordered.
