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They don’t know that we know that they know we knowsuddenly rattles off in my brain. No idea what that was, but I feel like Kseniya is the source of it. Some dumbass American TV show she made me watch.New GirlorThe OfficeorGilmore Girlsor some shit.
I shake it away to get myself back on track. “Well shit, don’t stop now.”
Angelo leans closer, as though he thinks that even this room is bugged. Fuck, it might be. “Word is you’ve got Tony’s sister.”
Shit.
Shit.
And now that I’m worried that there might be a bug in the fucking room and it’s going to get leaked to even more people, I say nothing. I just stare at Angelo, and my silence is enough of a confirmation to him.
“Should that be the case,” he says softly, “Gino requests a trade.”
I shake my head. Absolutely not. I’m not giving them Ana in exchange for Alex, and they better be prepared for the fact that I will send in a squad to rescue Alex, now that I know where he is. This is on them. All of it. Including the fact Ana’s with me.
Angelo holds a hand up. “Mrs. Romano requests an afternoon with Mrs. Baranov, that is all.”
Mrs. Baranov.So that means they know I’m passing her off as my wife, too.
“They’ll bring your boy, you bring your wife. It will be a great comfort to Mrs. Romano to know Mrs. Baranov is safe and taken care of and happy where she is.”
“We can do that over the phone.” Fuck, why didn’t she just smuggle a phone in like last time?
“There are concerns about Mrs. Baranov’s mental state. The phone isn’t good enough this time. Mrs. Romano wants toseeher. Mind you, they are putting their necks out returning your boy like this.”
I scrub the back of my own neck and groan in irritation. “Fine. When and where?”
“Tomorrow. They’ll come to you. I presume there’s a helicopter pad on your roof? I’ve heard that’s your thing.”
Chapter 13
Ana
The sensation Iwake up to is so sharp and electric I start thrashing, only for a firm arm to band across my torso, pinning my hands, and a heavy leg to weigh down my calves.
A memory.
Almost.
A terrible one. It glimmers at the edges, threatening to crush me all over again because it’s an arm around my waist and a hand on my mouth. It’s being yanked backward. Dragged. It’s–
“Shhh, Ana.”
Just like that, the memory vanishes, snatched as cleanly as I was, leaving only the question about whether it was truly a memory or just the possibility of what happened to me. My instincts tell me to grab for it; my self-preservation tells me to letit go.
This is not where my two halves join. This is not how I become the old Ana. Not through that door.
“Vasily?” I whisper, even though I’ve already caught his scent and recognized his warmth and attempted to melt into it.
But couldn’t, because I’m pretty sure he’s hooked a 9V to my clit.
“Of course,” he says so silkily that ok, yeah, I do melt a little.
I shimmy until I find that just-right spot that I can breathe and whisper, “What is that?”
“A sex toy,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
Which has me realizing that not only is my shoulder bare, my whole body is. His, too. He’s damp. The pungent scent of his oakmoss soap tells me he’s just gotten out of the shower. His body is curved around mine to contain me. I feel his stiff cock laying along my slit.