Page 10 of Betraying Family Vows

"Watch me." She steps forward again, knife raised. "I'll open you from ear to ear."

I meet her gaze, steady. Calm.

"Like I said. Then fucking do it."

The words hang between us like a dare.

She can't.

And now she knows I know.

She steps back abruptly, pacing again.

I lean my head back against the chair, roll my shoulders as much as the ties allow.

Blood's returning to my fingers. Strength too. The drugs are fading fast. Soon enough, I'll be ready. And then we'll see who holds the knife.

"It doesn't matter," she says. "Either way, you're not leaving here alive."

"We both know that's not true."

She stops pacing. "And why is that?"

"Because you're curious. About me. About why I killed your father. About what it would feel like to cross that line. And about what I'd do if you let me."

I lean forward again, the chair squeaking. "But mostly... you're curious why, even now, you can't fucking look away from me."

Her lips part slightly, eyes locked with mine. The knife lowers an inch. Then another.

"You're just trying to manipulate me," she says.

I grin, teeth bared. "No. But I think you're in way over your pretty little head."

Her face tightens. For a second, I wonder if she'll actually hit me again.

Instead, she takes a step back and straightens up, trying to look confident in that red dress.

Knife still in hand, grip firm now.

"I'm not afraid of you," she says, her voice barely shaking when she says the words.

"Not yet," I say and give her a serious stare for the first time. "Just wait until I'm free."

4

DIMITRI

Four steps in her walk before she turns, and five steps back. Uneven. She's favoring her right leg. Maybe the heels, maybe nerves.

She turns and paces back toward the table. Her breath is shallow and quick. Fear or excitement? Hard to tell with women like her.

I watch her hand drift to her waist for the third time, adjusting something beneath the fabric of that red dress. Not her underwear. Something harder.

A gun.

Interesting that she'd reach for a knife first if she's got a pistol. Either she doesn't know how to use it, or she's saving it.

"You should be careful with that," I say, nodding toward her hip.