Page 40 of The Games of Madmen

Rodion reluctantly slides out of the booth to free her. My thumb swipes across her bare thigh, drawing her gaze to me. I greedily stare at her plump lips before meeting her stare.

“We’re not done discussing this,liybimaya.”My love.“There’s more to this story. There has to be.”I pull a box of matches from my pocket that I took from the lobby of our hotel and shove it into her hand. “You know where to find us when you want to talk.”

She blinks back sudden tears and I see a flash of the vulnerable girl I gave half my heart to years ago. “Goodbye, Z.”

Ahhh, but this is hello again, Alyona.

Chapter Twelve

Alyona

Ican’t do this.

There’s not enough in my savings account for me to disappear.Jeremiah would find me. Rodion and Zahkar would find me. It’s more complicated now than it was two years ago.

What am I going to do?

It’s well after two in the morning when we leave the club. The twins left an hour ago. I’m too exhausted to deal with Jeremiah as his hands roam over my body in the uber. Deep down inside of me, the former socialite from Russia begs to wave her white flag of defeat so the twins will save her again.Things were easier when I was just a club-going rich girl who loved to spend her daddy’s money because I was a Voskoboynikov, and Voskoboynikovs love to shop.

Butthatgirl is gone.

Her heart was torched in the cold bowels of hell, otherwise known as Moscow, and she’s been missing ever since.

And, despite everything, I like who I became leading up to The Games. I grew strong, fierce, and fell in love with my madmen.

God, my chest aches.

The only thing that soothes it anymore is the gift I got from my time with the madmen of Moscow.

“I’m hot, Jer.” I move from his lap and open the window.Arkansas has nothing on Russian weather. What these people call cold is practically a warm summer day where I come from.Tonight, the air is sticky and hot. It’s nights like these that I miss the bitter wind and mountains of snow.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just overheated.”

He grunts in disproval. “You’ve been weird since earlier tonight at the club. Fucking uptight. Sucking up all the oxygen in the room.”

Sometimes I wish I could just punch him.

“Then don’t sit so fucking close,” I hit back with my words, resentment flooding my thoughts.

I fumble for my keys and quietly unlock the front door once we make it home.I’m silent as I slip into the house, dodging Jeremiah’s glare as I rush to grab a shirt to change into after my shower.

I zone out the moment I step under the hot spray. It feels good on my aching body. My hair gets washed first, and then I soap down every sore limb. As the hot water runs down my face, I cry silently for this stupid life I have. Eventually, the water grows cold, and I attempt to harden my heart.

I fail miserably.

Quickly, I dry off and change. I brush through my unruly wet hair and exit the bathroom, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and when I’m walking back to our bedroom I sense him.

The chill that overtakes me makes me tremble, but still, my heart is soft and tender.

“Did you fuck those twins?” Jeremiah asks in a deceptively calm voice, arms crossed behind him as he stands at the end of the hallway.

“W-What?” I hiss, eyes wild. “What are you talking about?”

He gestures with his left hand.“You came in late last night and then the interaction tonight was suspicious. Even Adam thought so.”

“Well, if Adam thought so,” I snap, burning hot with anger at the both of them.