Page 65

CHARLOTTE

Song- Silver Swarm, Thornhill

T he door opens and goosebumps erupt over my skin.

I know without looking up it’s him.

Slowly, I tip my head up, and I’m met with his scowl. The whites of his eyes are red, his tattooed hands clench by his side.

I need him to hear me out. How I do that, I need to figure out, really fast.

I stay silent as he approaches, wishing the pounding in my ears would shut up.

“I think it’s about time I got answers, don’t you, Mrs. Kovalyov?”

I keep my gaze fixed on him, ignoring the ache I get hearing him say my last name.

“Ask away.”

He sucks in a deep breath and tips his head back.

“I like you like this.” His tone lowers as he steps forward.

“Scared?”

“Just ask what you need to ask so I can go.”

I keep my arms as still as I can.

“Is that what you want? To get as far away from me as possible, again? Are you going to leave the knife in my damn back this time?” He tilts his head, assessing me.

“No knives. Just words.”

“Let’s keep it simple, shall we? Yes and no. I don’t want a conversation. I just want my answers, then I’m done with you.”

A sinking feeling pits in my stomach. I don’t know why I expected anything else.

“Were you married when we fucked?”

He almost sounds disgusted.

I flinch, and my leg starts to bounce.

“Yes.”

He scoffs, looking away from me for a split second.

“Were you in Italy to set me up?”

“No.”

“Did you know I was your mark when we had sex?”

“No,” I reply firmly.

He opens his mouth and closes it again.

“Are you here to kill me?”

I close my eyes.

“Look at me, heartbreaker. Are you here to fucking end me?” he says calmly, and I open up my eyes.

“Y-yes.”

He slams his palm against the wall and rests there.

“Do you fuck men on all your little missions?” He glares at me.

“Was I just your prey to play with? Huh?”

I blink at him and shake my head.

“No.”

A smile tugs at his lips.

“You’re a mighty fine liar, Charlotte. You played a good game, though. I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. I bet you and Vlad had a laugh about it. Didn’t you? Oh, how easy it was to trick me into believing you were real. That you were hiding pain and needed to be set free.”

His nostrils flare as he pushes himself off the wall.

“N-no.” My breath hitches.

He crouches down in front of me.

“Liar,” he spits out.

I need a new tactic. He isn’t going to sympathize with me. Nor listen to me.

My mind flashes back to Italy. I got under his skin by being me. The sassy version.

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night, knowing you lost to me and you’ve clearly been thinking about me for years. Decadent? You named a whole factory after my pussy,” I laugh.

Rage fills his pretty face, so I keep going.

“I got under your skin, and you hate it.” I grin at him and cough as his hand shoots out and grips my throat.

“You did not get to me,” he seethes in my ear.

Fuck it.

I swing my arm forward and squeeze his neck.

His heart races against my palm and his eyes go wide. But this time, there’s a spark in them.

He lifts me up and slams me against the wall. It vibrates through me.

“You wanna play, sweetheart?” He leans in and my breath hitches.

“Yes. Because I know I’ll win again.”

His gaze rapidly flicks between my lips and my eyes. He’s torn, and I need to make the decision.

“You fucking?—”

I cut him off by slamming my lips over his. I need him to hear me. To feel me.

Understand that the woman sent here to kill him is not me. Not really.

I am the Charlotte he brought out.

He deepens the kiss and runs his hands through my hair before pulling so damn hard it feels like it’s being ripped from my scalp.

“Your spells won’t work on me this time,” he pants out.

I lick my swollen lips as he presses his body tighter against mine.

“Tell that to your brain.” I look down at his crotch.

“My brain is up here, heartbreaker. You just wanted a look at the last decent dick you had, didn’t you?” He smirks.

I bat my lashes at him.

“Maybe. Or maybe I was distracting you so I can do this.”

His frown deepens as I quickly seize his biceps; with a surge of strength, I push him back, using his body to leverage my own and pull my legs up. In one forceful move, I kick out into his gut, sending him stumbling backwards onto his ass.

He splutters a cough as he gets up on one knee. I plaster myself against the wall, trying to regain my balance.

“Proposing already? Why are you so obsessed with me, Mr. Quinn?” I step forward as he grabs hold of his stomach, getting his breath back.

Digging my fingers into the pressure points between his neck and shoulder, I look down at him.

“Not a fucking clue, sweetheart.” His voice is gravelly, that Irish twang makes my body heat.

“But trust me, I’m nowhere near my full potential of psycho with you just yet.”

His eyes darken as he lunges for my waist, dragging me down to the floor.

We tumble around, I grab hold of his shirt and it rips open the top few buttons. As he extends to snatch my wrist, I roll out of the way.

“You think I don’t know how to deal with psychos?” I shout as I crawl away.

He snatches one of the leather bands around my waist and drags me across the floor. Swinging my leg back, I smash it into his ribs.

I make it over to the edge of the chocolate fountain.

“You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through or why I do what I do. I’m asking you to listen, Declan.”

He grunts behind me. As he approaches, I turn around and dip my hand in the warm pool of chocolate, splashing it all over his face.

“Decadent? Right?” I mock.

My lungs heave as I look at his chocolate-splattered face. He slowly licks his lips, and I stop before splashing again.

“Pretty much. Try it for yourself.” His tone is icy.

I gasp as he grabs the back of my head and shoves me forward, right into the stream of melted chocolate flowing.

I try doing everything I can to get out of his grip, but the more I try, the harder he squeezes my neck. Just as my lungs burn, he pulls me out.

This is not going the way I want.

But I don’t have a damn plan other than to fight it out.