Page 8

Anya

The steam rises around me, hot and suffocating, but I need it hotter. I need it to burn.

Flashes of all the unholy things that man did to me only minutes ago flood my mind. The way his cock had filled me—the way my pussy swallowed his dick whole.

“Fuck!” I slam my hand on the wet tiles. The burn of the water is nothing compared to the searing agony that moves within my body. “Fuck you, asshole.”

‘You feel this twisted tether between us.’

I hated how he could tell what was going on in my head. I don’t want to admit it, but it’s true. I do feel that tether. That pull that somehow always manages to reel me in when it comes to him.

I look up to the faucet and allow the water to pour over me.

I need it to scour every trace of him from my body, from my mind. I push the temperature up, feeling the sting, but it's still not enough. His memory clings to me like a persistent shadow, refusing to dissolve.

The water rushes over me in angry torrents as if to mimic his relentless force. It streams down my face, mingling with tears I refuse to acknowledge. Every drop that pelts against my skin reminds me of his touch, of the way he invaded my defenses, of the way I betrayed myself by wanting it. It's as if each spray of water whispers his name, taunting me with the weakness I showed. I turn my face up into the punishing heat, hoping it will burn away the guilt, the shame, the desire—everything he saw and took in that moment. But it won't. It can't. It only sears the surface, leaving everything else intact. Still, I try.

I drag my nails over my arms, over my thighs, over every place he touched. I brace myself against the slick tile, fingers pressing hard, breath coming too fast. Too uneven.

“Why do I like it so much?” I mutter to myself. “I need to get a hold of myself. Or I need to admit to myself that I was the one to orchestrate this whole thing. I just wanted to play him, but he is playing me instead.”

I have one goal, and that is to make sure that Dmitri meets his demise. Blood for blood. That is the only thing on my mind. I am so lost in my own mind that I don’t hear the door open until I hear the creaking of it closing. I don’t need to look back to know who it is.

“Get the fuck out,” I say over the trickling of the water.

My breath hitches.

“We need to leave now, Anya. Right now!” His voice comes right by the glass of the door. “You have one minute.”

“Okay. I will be out in a minute.” For some reason, I feel like I’m fighting back tears as I blink furiously to keep them from falling.

I get dressed, and I am out the door ten minutes later. I meet Pavel by the front, and I don’t miss the way his eyes hungrily move over my body.

“Eyes up here.” I pat my hands on the skirt of my dress. Leave it to him to pick a dress that hugs my breasts and pushes them all the way up to my neck. At least the length goes past my knees. “Ready?”

“After you.” He opens the door for me, and I walk out with my head held high, trying to keep my emotions in check.

I can feel his gaze burning into my back as I walk away. It's a mixture of possessiveness and anger, and it makes my skin crawl.

“Where are we going?” I ask since he is suddenly being so secretive.

We walk into the elevator.For the first time in days, I feel like I am taking in real air. Regardless of how luxurious the penthouse was, it had been nothing more than a golden cage from which I needed to be released.

We go down in silence, his eyes now glued to his phone. He types on it ferociously and scowls.

“It would be nice if you talked to me, you know?”

My only answer is silence. The doors open, and I see we are in the parking garage.Before us, there is a sleek, black Range Rover. There is a man dressed in all black, and his gun is on full display outside the passenger seat. When he hears us walk up, he lifts his head from his phone.

I hold back a gasp at the striking nature of his eyes. They are this electric blue that leaves you stunned. His eyes move up and down my body, but not in the way that Pavel does. He looks at me like I’m nothing more than a pest insignificant. He tears his gaze from mine and then looks to Pavel.

“I see we are onto phase 2.” The man grunts under his breath. “So, this is her? Leo’s baby sister.”

At the mention of my brother’s name, I pause. I look the man up and down, sizing him up. “How do you know Leo?”

The man ignores me and looks at Pavel. “Bringing her out could be a liability. Dmitri already thinks she’s dead.”

What?

“Mikhail, I know what I’m doing. This is why we keep her in one of the safe houses where she will be away from everyone while she works on finding those files in the database.” Pavel presses his hand on the small of my back. “We’ve run out of time, and she needs to work fast.”

“I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me what the fuck is going on.” I try to move from his hold, but Pavel grabs onto me tighter. “Why are you trying to take down Dmitri, and who is he to you all? And why does Dmitri think I’m dead?”

“None of your business.” Mikhail spits without even looking my way. “If he sees her, then we are all going to shit. We killed that girl for nothing then and—…”

My stomach drops. “You did what? Okay, someone needs to start explaining this to me immediately.”

“Mikhail.” The thunder behind his tone is severe. “It’s nothing that you need to worry yourself with. We did what we needed to do in order to make this plan work.”

“This plan? Dmitri thinks I’m dead, and you what? Killed another woman and faked my death?”

“No.”

“Yes.” Mikhail contradicts Pavel. “Don’t lie to her, Pavel. The girl deserves to know the lengths we went to keep her alive. We killed a girl. Her name was Riley, and she—”

“Enough, Misha,” Pavel pushes Mikhail in the chest. “I will explain everything to you later, but for now, I need you to leave with Mikhail. He will take you to a safe house, and when I come back, I will answer all your questions. Okay?”

I want to fight him, but Mikhail quips again, breaking my train of thought.

“By the way, the longer you stay out in the open, the more likely we all end up dead. So, take all the time in the world you need, princess.” I don’t miss the bored tone in his voice, and I let out a huff of annoyance.

I can’t believe that in the short span of these few days, my life has been turned completely upside down.

“Fine. But when you come, I want all the answers. All of them.” I hold his stare, letting him know that I mean business.

“You have my word.”

I know that his word means fuck all, but for now, I will indulge him and act like I believe him.

“Okay.” I will pretend to play along for now, but if the opportunity ever arises, I will make sure that my knife doesn’t get missed.

We arrived at the safe house a few hours later. It's a nondescript building in a quiet neighborhood. Mikhail does his best to pretend that I don’t exist. He doesn’t answer a single question that I have, and he doesn’t even have the common courtesy to wait for me to get out of the car and go into the apartment building together.

“You’re rather rude.” I quip loudly. “Maybe even worse than Pavel.”

“Funny, I don’t remember asking your opinion. Remind me. Who are you? Just another little toy for Pavel.” He opens the door to the apartment and walks in without looking at me.

I stand in the hallway, looking completely and utterly gobsmacked by what he said. I blink and shake off the shock that had washed over my body initially. I follow him inside and find him already in the kitchen, pulling out a beer. Why did his words tick me? I wanted Pavel to be my toy and for him to play around with me. Now that Mikhail said it out loud, it hurt me.

“Your room is the one at the end of the hall. Your boyfriend will bring the computer soon.” He opens his bottle and takes a swig. “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”

I give him the finger. “Firstly, he is not my boyfriend, and secondly, I don’t like you. You are a bit of an ass.”

“Funny, 'cause I was thinking the exact same thing about you.” He closes the fridge with his foot and saunters over to the couch, where he makes himself comfortable. “Leave me alone.”

I huff out in annoyance and make my way down the hallway, wanting to put as much distance between him and me as possible.

My room is small and spartan, but it's clean and comfortable. There's a bed, a dresser, and a chair. The only window looks over the street across. It’s a far cry from the penthouse room I was used to the past few days. I lie down on the bed and close my eyes.

I'm not sure how long I slept, but when I woke up, it was dark outside. I get up and go to the window. The city lights twinkle in the distance, and I can hear the faint sound of traffic.

I don't know where Pavel is or when he'll be back. I'm starting to feel nervous. I hear a noise at the door, and my heart jumps. I grab the lamp from the bedside table and hold it up like a weapon.

The door creaks open, and Pavel steps inside. He's carrying a tray of food.

“Really, little rabbit?” He cocks his eyebrow. “Like that would have helped?” He starts laughing.

“I don’t have a gun right now, so the lamp is the best that I could do.” I huff and place it back down on the bedside table. My eyes move to the tray in his hands. “What is that?”

"I brought you dinner," he says with a softness that I’m not used to. His entire demeanor has been unnerving since this morning.

"Thank you," I say as I eye the pasta. “To whom do I owe the gesture of kindness?”

“Me? Nothing. Mikhail made this for you.”

I scrunch my nose in disdain. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it? I know that.”

He rolls his eyes. “No. Now eat. You’re starting to look like you have more bone than muscle.”

“Wonderful, what every woman wants to hear.”

He sets the tray down on the bed and sits down next to me. I can feel the weight of his gaze even while I avoid his eyes, every inch between us charged and vibrating with unsaid things. I take a bite of the food, reluctant at first, expecting sabotage, but it's surprisingly good.

I’m unreasonably relieved that Pavel remains silent as I eat, though the quiet is even more unnerving in a way. I know he's watching me, assessing, calculating, stripping me bare without touching me. Each second that passes thickens with tension, and his proximity needles at my composure, making it hard to swallow even as I shovel the pasta into my mouth.

Is this another one of his games? I try to read him and piece together his angle, but his face is an unreadable mask. I don't know whether to be grateful for the meal or suspicious of it, of him, of his uncharacteristic patience.

Halfway through the bowl, I finally glance sideways at him. The steadiness of his expression is unnerving, as if he's waiting for something but won’t say what it is.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

“You said you would tell me after you came back.” There is no point beating around the bush. “Start talking.”

“Always the eager one.” He reaches for me and brushes his hand against my cheek. “The same way that Dmitri stole your brother from you. He stole something from me and Mikhail.”

I pause, “Mikhail?”

He nods. “It’s why he is on this mission with me. We have a common goal, and that is to destroy Dmitri and his entire empire. The outcome of achieving that goal will vary, of course.”

“Why do you want him dead?” The words hang in the room heavy over us. “Tell me why, and I will help you.”

I’m surprised that I actually mean the words that I speak. I will never admit it out loud, but this man has somehow managed to worm his way into the thorn-covered crevasses of my chest.

I…feel things for him. These are things that I know I’m not meant to feel. But I do, and I can’t deny them or push them away—I tried.

“Tell me, Pavel.”

A storm rages in his eyes, and then he opens his mouth and says: “He killed my daughter.”

Chapter 9

Pavel

“Your daughter?” She looks at me with wide eyes filled with sorrow and…sympathy. I hate the latter. Never in my life would I accept anyone’s sympathy for me.

“Yes, my daughter—Francesca.” The words leave my lips with much effort. I don’t talk about Francesca. She is a sore spot for me that I never like to revisit. I focus solely on avenging her and Lilian.

“Can you tell me what he did?”

I lock my jaw in place and grind my teeth together. “There is no need for you to know that information. Now you know why I’m after him. Will you do the work that I need you to?”

She reaches her hand and places it over mine in a comforting gesture. But the gesture is anything but comforting. The last thing that I want right now is to be pitied. I had taken that shit in as a child, and it served me nothing. I don’t need it now as an adult.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Pavel.” What irks me the most is the sincerity in her voice. “No one deserves that kind of pain.”

I rip my hand from under hers and push away from the bed. Her voice echoes. It resounds against the walls of my mind. I am sorry for your loss. Sorry for your loss.

My stomach churns just thinking about it.

“This isn’t some soap opera shit,” I snap, wheeling around to face her. “I don’t need your pity. I just want to know if you will do your job and hack into his systems. We don’t have long until he’s back.”

The confession was not meant to elicit this. The grip I have on my emotions is slipping away with every fucking second that I spend with this woman. She is not meant to get underneath my skin like this. That was never the plan. But somewhere along the line, it became the reality. And now, the days are blurring into one confused mess, and lines that have never been crossed are now being plowed through.

“I don’t pity you. I just…I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. I can’t imagine a child, but I did lose my brother at the hands of Dmitri.”

I don’t speak.

My desire for her has bred a weakness in me that has produced her sympathy. That has made me spill secrets that I have kept close to my chest since the day Dmitri stole them from me.

I need to get my shit together and contain the emotions that are quickly turning me from the man that was feared by many into something that is weak and common, and pathetic. Into a man who can’t control his own desires and lets a pretty face dictate his every move.

I think back to the mess I’ve already made by letting my emotions get the better of me. It has cost me much more than I can bear to admit. I will not let it consume my present or my future like it did my past.

I won’t let it consume me again.

I can feel that sadness. Her chest bleeds for my loss, and I hate it. I hate how genuine she is. I hate how she is affecting me when all I set out to do is affect her. I hate how it’s working.

I know that my reaction is shocking to her. She has never seen me so open. It doesn’t matter that Dmitri is in Spain at the moment. The man has eyes everywhere. I need her head in the game, not bleeding for my loss.

I need my head in the game and not bleeding over her.

“You do know that it’s okay to be human, right? You’re allowed to feel pain.” She says in the thick of the quiet. “You can be vulnerable. I know men like you shy away from all of that.”

“Enough, Anya.”

I can hear the bitterness in my voice, the hatred that consumes me. I've buried it deep for years, but it's still there, festering like a wound that never heals.

Anya is silent, her eyes downcast. I can see the tears welling up in them, and I feel a surge of anger. I don't want her pity. I don't want her sympathy. I want her to understand.

"I'm going to make him pay," I say, my voice filled with steel. "I'm going to destroy him and everything he stands for. And then I’m going to claim the very empire that I bled and sacrificed for.”

She doesn’t speak. She just allows me to fill the silence that passes between us.

I push back whatever little human emotion that threatens to bubble over and spill into this moment. I often have to catch myself from letting my walls drop.

“I will bring your computer and everything else you need. We don’t have much time. He will be back in the next four days, and after that, all hell will break loose.”

I stand up and walk towards the door. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from her. I need to be alone with my thoughts.

"Finish your food and then come out into the living room," I say, without looking back.

I step out of the room and close the door behind me. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I need to calm down. I need to focus. I need to remember why I'm doing this.

This is about more than just Francesca. This is about the pound of flesh this man owes me. The Bratva is about power, and there are a lot of moving chess pieces that play into the game.

The walls of the small apartment feel like they’re closing at the moment Anya’s words drift off into silence, their echo almost visible in the air. It’s fucking suffocating.

My breath feels ragged, my heart drumming too loudly in my ears as I put distance between us. I was never meant to let this happen, yet here I am, knee-deep in the quicksand of unwanted emotion.

I need to loosen the grip this woman has on me before it squeezes the life out of everything I’ve worked for. She is just for my dick and nothing more. That is what I have to keep reminding myself of.

She should not matter. She is to please my body and to take down Dmitri. That is the only thing that I need her for.

She was only ever supposed to be a pawn, a means to an end, but now she’s embedded herself under my skin.

The thoughts that cripple my mind are messy, tangled. I can’t afford to let them take hold, to let this newfound weakness follow me and warp every strategy into something unfamiliar and powerless.

Francesca.

Lilian.

Leo.

I grind my teeth, reminding myself why it's essential to be the man I’ve always been—calculating and in control. There's no room for anything else. Certainly not for whatever the hell this—

“Pavel.”

Mikhail’s voice punches through the fog before I even see him. It’s enough to snap my attention back to the now.

“You seem on edge, Brother.” Patient. Watching. He knows. “Has the witch cast one of her deadly spells? Nothing quite like the magic of a wet pussy, right?”

I offer him a scowl. “Shut up, Mikhail. Get it through your thick skull that she is not just a pussy. Her beautiful brain of hers is a computer master goddess. Now. How may I help you?”

The curve of his mouth says it before his measured, even pace meets mine.

“Just making sure you weren’t in too deep. A little distraction can be dangerous,” he says, making his way towards me.

I can hear the taunt in his tone. It’s clear he knows about my emotional slip with Anya. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it bother me.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I say, my voice as cold as ice. “And Anya is simply a tool to be used for her brain. Beautiful but still a tool. Nothing more.” Even as I say those words out loud, they don’t hit my chest like they usually do.

“You care.” The words hang between us before he follows them with a sip of his coffee. He slants against the wall with enough ease to let me know who he thinks is in control of this situation. The bastard wouldn’t be wrong. “That is a problem.”

Mikhail’s eyes narrow. He knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods and walks away.

I watch him go. I hate that he’s right. Anya is more than just a tool to me. But I can’t afford to let that show. I can’t afford to let my emotions get in the way.

I take a deep breath and turn back towards Anya’s room. I need to focus. I need to finish what I started.

I need to destroy Dmitri. In the meantime, I will go back to Anya’s room to see how she is doing. I hate what this woman is doing to me.