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“She has no choice.”
“Convince her to stay so that she looks the part of Bratva bride,” Mikhail mutters, piecing together whatever demented plan he’s got brewing in his head. “Show that she’s with you willingly, and they’ll accept your marriage. They won’t take her side over yours. There’s only one side.” He grins like a cat cornering its prey. “Don’t worry, pakhan, I’ll win her heart and give her a reason to stay.” His gaze slides over to me, and even though he’s not laughing, I can see the glee in his eyes. “I’ll make sure she chooses me.”
I roll my eyes. “This is not competition.”
“Not to you. Not until you see her looking at me the way you always wanted her to look at you.” He must see the murder in my eyes, because he laughs and sidesteps out of reach. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her how much you’ve pined after her all these years. Your secret’s safe with me.” He winks, and I think of all the ways I could gouge his eyes out right here and now.
Andrei turns his laptop back around and starts typing rapidly, seemingly disinterested in what just transpired. “I’ll set up her introductions. Be ready at any moment. We must also keep an eye on Katya’s whereabouts. If she’s involved like we suspect, she will not sit quietly once she realizes we have Valentina.”
We’re dismissed, and as Mikhail drifts off to god knows where, I retreat back to my room. The light’s still on, and the mess Valentina left in her wake remains. Rustled bedsheets. A missing pillowcase. My watch and other miscellaneous baubles strewn across the floor. Her scent in the air.
I dive headfirst into the sheets, shut my eyes, and will the clock to rewind.
Before I met her.
Before I wanted her.
Before she came tearing back into my life, finally close enough for me to touch.
No longer forbidden . . . and no less wanted.
Fuck.
Chapter 6
Valentina
The click of the door lock makes me jump out of my skin.
How long have I been sitting here? An hour? Two? My heart rate ratchets up to dangerous levels, and I quickly grab the lamp by my side, poised to strike the moment someone walks through those double doors. I slink closer to the doorframe and hold my breath, lamp held high overhead.
The door handles turn down, and both doors swing open in one broad sweep. The chair I’d placed as a barrier earlier today clatters uselessly to the floor as the intruder pushes inside the room. “I’ve brought you gifts—” The man pauses, glances down at the fallen chair, and laughs.
Mikhail.
I can’t see his face from behind the door, but I can already picture his ear-splitting, shit-eating grin.
“Do you like games, Valentina?” He takes a step into the room, drops the shopping bags he’s holding like they’re dead weight, and holds up both his hands. “See, I love games. I’m really good at winning.” He takes a careful step forward as his eyes sweep the room. “How about we play a little game?”
I catch his reflection in the window and try to shrink into his shadow, praying he won’t see me hiding behind him. I’ve never been hunted before, but this feels like the start of a very dangerous game where I’m the helpless prey and he’s the seasoned predator.
The lamp in my hands grows heavier by the second, and my resolve wavers.
Will hitting him with a heavy, blunt object kill him? I grip the metal neck tighter, my palms starting to sweat.
Do I care if it does?
“If I find you,” he murmurs low, “I get...” He slides his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates his prize. “Five minutes with you all to myself.”
That’s a weird request, but I can’t dwell on it now.
“But if you manage to get past me and into the hallway, I’ll give you five minutes.”
The last thing I want is to spend five minutes with this creep. Is he crazy?
“What do you say? Do you accept?”
I want to yell fuck no, but this is part of Mikhail’s little game. He wants me to say something so that I’ll reveal myself.
