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“I am not acting.”
“Ah, right…your promise.” Our supposed blasphemous link he begrudgingly confessed to as soon as he threw me in his car. “Well, your godfather duties ended when you skipped town sixteen years ago, so stop trying to die on that hill.” I don’t know why I bend down and cradle his face. Maybe his erratic behavior is contagious, or maybe it pisses me off he won’t acknowledge I’m not that same little girl he abandoned. “You claimed me, Mik. That makes you my lover, not my family.” I frown. “And it makes me nothing more than your mistake.”
His eyes darken. “You are no one’s mistake, lisichka.”
“But you said?—”
“I did not come to Miami for your parents. I came for you. I am a contract killer, Zasha, a paid assassin just like your father. I had just finished a job when a fifty-million-dollar opportunity fell in my lap.”
“Oh, God…”
“No, lisichka. There is no God here. Someone wants you dead, and they are willing to offer a king’s ransom to make it happen.”
“Who ordered the hit?” My body trembles.
“I do not know.”
“Who accepted it?”
He lowers his gaze and stares at the stained blue carpet.
“You…” I stumble backward.
“I did not take it to collect,” he roars. “I took it to warn your father so he could protect you. But now…” Furious, he shoves the lamp off the nightstand. “I am not so certain he can.”
“Then you protect me.”
“I cannot.”
We may be virtual strangers, but something inside me knows the wall he’s built is impenetrable. Talking will do nothing but spin us in circles. There’s only one way I know to reach him.
Stepping forward, I place my hands on his shoulders and straddle his lap. Before he can protest, I crush my mouth against his. At first, he resists, his hands clamping around my waist to push me away. But it only takes one brush of my tongue across his lips for his grip to tighten and his control to snap.
He deepens the kiss, leaving stinging bites on my lips before releasing a low growl into my mouth and pulling away. His chest heaves as he tips his head back to stare up at me. “You are twenty-one, Zasha.”
“So?”
“I am forty-six.”
“They’re just numbers.”
“And your godfather.”
My grip on his shoulders tightens. “I’ve watched countless men die at the hands of my parents. Are you really going to throw moral standards at me right now?”
“Zasha…” My name is a protest that dies on his tongue as I run my hands over his chest. His fingers tighten, and with a rough tug, my towel drops to the floor. He closes his eyes, a sharp breath lodging in his throat as I reach between us and cup his already hard cock. “Ty sobirayesh’sya ubit’ menya.”
You’re going to be the death of me.
The words haunt me, but I say nothing.
My father won’t give a damn if Mik came to save my life or end it. Once he watches that video, the seas will run red. Eventually, Mik and I will be forced to turn on each other, but until the walls come crashing down around us—I’ll take what he’s willing to give.
I kiss him with all the hate, fear, and restless ambition I feel. The sudden impact knocks him off balance, sending us both tumbling onto the mattress.
Tightening his fist in my hair, he pulls my head back, those icy blue eyes glaring up at me as he breaks our kiss. “Are you playing games, lisichka?” He grabs my waist and with one fluid spin has me pinned beneath him, his knees wedged between my legs. “Answer me.”
I shake my head. “Maybe it started that way, but I have no reason to be here other than for you.”
