Page 48 of Omega

“No,” Vitaly murmured. “No, you did not think.”

Perhaps I only thought I saw the movement. It was so fast, so neatly and easily done.Snick, a blade shot out of a handle that had appeared in Vitaly’s palm, and then with a sudden flash of his wrist, the blade was snugged between Yuri’s ribs on his left side, angled upward. Vitaly stepped back after a moment, withdrawing the blade. Yuri stood for a moment, blinking, confused, and then he toppled to the floor, slightly sideways and backward at the same time. Blood darkened his shirt, trickled slowly to the floor and began pooling, dark red on the white marble floor.

“Maria!” Vitaly said, his voice raised just a bit.

A woman appeared. “Senhor?”

“Get Gutierrez in here, tell him he has a mess to clean up.”

“Imediatamente.” The woman vanished without so much as a glance at me or the dead body.

Vitaly knelt, wiped the blade clean on Yuri’s shirt, and then stood. He turned to face me. “My apologies for the unpleasantness. Sometimes these men I hire, they do not do as they should. Now, where were we?” He eyed me, as I held the shirt up to my chest. “Ah, yes. Follow me, please.”

He pivoted sharply on his heel, and led me to a short hallway that ended at a set of wide French doors. He pushed them open, revealing an extravagant bedroom overlooking São Paulo. He ignored the bed—thank god—and gestured at the door leading to the bathroom.

“A shower, I think, might be welcome?”

“That would be great,” I said. “Thank you.”

He nodded as I entered the bathroom, and then followed me. I waited a moment, and then two. Vitaly did not grin, or smile, or make a lecherous comment, but when he leaned a hip against the counter edge and folded his arms over his chest, I realized he had no intention of leaving.

I let out a long breath, then steeled myself. Nothing mattered but staying alive.Harris is coming. Harris is coming. HarrisIScoming.I just had to stay alive until he found me.

I dropped the shirt, hooked my thumbs in the sides of my thong and wiggled out of it, all too aware of Vitaly watching every move. Turning on the spray, I adjusted the temperature, made sure there was shampoo and such in the shower, got a washcloth, and then stepped under the steaming spray of hot water.

I took my time, trying to pretend Vitaly wasn’t there. I even washed myself down below, trying to act normal, like I didn’t have a pen stuck up where the sun don’t shine. His eyes followed my every move, every jiggle and bounce and sway.

When I was done, I shut off the water, wiped my face, and found Vitaly extending a towel to me, held open. I moved to take it from him, but he withdrew it, made a negative sound in his throat, and then held it out to me again.

Shit.

I stood still, dripping on the marble floor.

His hands never came in direct contact with my skin as he gently and carefully wiped me dry with the towel, dabbing and scrubbing all over from my shoulders to feet, breast to calves, but nonetheless I felt…not violated, exactly, but aware of the consequences of disobedience, and disgusted with what I knew I would have to endure. I held my breath and tried not to flinch, tried not to fight him. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed, but I got through the entire process without protest, verbal or physical. My skin crawled, my stomach rebelled.

I wanted to get back in the shower and scrub myself all over again.

His eyes roamed my body, and once he even pressed his nose to my flesh at my hip and inhaled deeply, and then gazed up at me.

He dried my breasts, lingeringly. Slowly. Lifting and caressing with the towel.

Oh god. Oh god.

I endured it silently. I kept my eyes open, expressionless, staring straight ahead.

He dried my ass last, once again doing it slowly, leisurely, and once again I had to focus on breathing and keeping still.

He neglected to thoroughly dry one small part of me, much to my good fortune.

When he was finally finished, he lifted a thick white robe off the hook on the back of the door, settled it over my shoulders, waited for me to slide my arms into the sleeves, and then tied it around me. Loosely, so my breasts weren’t quite covered. Of course.

Vitaly stepped away, back into the bedroom. “You have an iron will, Miss Campari. You did not react at all.”

“I’m either going to get out of this alive, or I’m not. That’s all that really matters.”

He stood in the center of the room, hands in his hip pockets. “You determine what happens, Miss Campari. I do not really have any issue with you, personally. I think you know with whom my anger lies.”

“Roth.”