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I stare at him, my heart racing in my chest. He looks so different from the night I first met him. He looks cold and dangerous—nothing like the amused, relaxed man in the club.
As Boris's gaze meets mine, true terror grips me. My heart pounds in my chest like a drum, and my thoughts race like wild horses while I try to make sense of the situation.
I don’t know what I was hoping for, but in a corner of my heart, I hoped he would save me. But of course, he won’t.
All I see is that he doesn’t recognize me. How could he? He was blindfolded that night.
“Do what you have to,” Boris tells the man behind me. “And get as much information from her as you can. Then, get rid of her like the rest.”
Boris turns around and is about to walk away when I shout in fear. “No, please! I’m innocent. I swear, I wasn’t even supposed to be here!”
And suddenly, like hope sent from the angels, Boris stops and turns to face me very slowly.
Chapter 9 - Boris
A voice, both painfully familiar and tantalizingly sweet, pierces through the noise around me. I freeze, the world around me fading away as I zone in on just that one voice.
Impossible. I’ve been searching for over a month, and here she is. To think I find her during a raid to claim back what’s ours! This has to be a figment of my imagination.
My heart hammers in my chest as the flood of memories from that night at the club washes over me. The way her body moved, the fiery passion in her voice, the taste of her lips on mine—it's all so vivid, like it happened only yesterday instead of over a month ago.
I must be imagining it.
I turn to face the woman. This time, I truly focus on her. When I met her, I couldn’t see her, only imagine her. Average height, long legs, curves all around. I felt her long, straight hair.
And in front of me stands a woman just as I pictured but so much more beautiful.
Her cherry pink lips are parted ever so slightly, shaped like the most beautiful almond I want to take a bite out of. My vision shifts to her brown hair and her eyes, golden like honey. My eyes graze over her figure. She’s wearing ripped jeans and a white button-down shirt, half-sleeved and half tucked in. Sandals. Birkenstocks, is it?
I turn my gaze upward to her face again. She’s flushed, a tinge of red blossoming on her cheeks.
She looks beautiful. She looks scared. She looks like everything I imagined and so much more. But I need to be sure.
“What’s your name?” I ask ferociously.
“Boris, it’s me. Robin,” she whispers.
I can’t believe it. After all this time? It is her.
“Boss, you know her?” Maxim asks, still holding the gun to her head. She looks at me, and then her eyes flick to the corner of her forehead. She wants the gun removed. But I want answers. So I say nothing.
"Robin," I whisper to myself, my breath ragged and my thoughts torn between the intoxicating attraction I feel for her and the suspicion that gnaws at me. Why is she here, now, of all times? What reason could she possibly have for being near the Abatos family? My instincts scream that it's not a coincidence, and I can't afford to ignore them.
"Maxim, I need you to trust me on this. I know what I'm doing," I tell my loyal aide, my voice low and urgent as he raises an eyebrow at me. "Keep an eye on things here. I'll handle her."
"Alright, Boss, but be careful," Maxim warns, concern flickering across his face before disappearing into the line of fire.
My loyalty wavers with each step that brings me closer to Robin. Having her stand here, right in front of me, is like a dream come true. How I wish we met under different circumstances, yet here we are.
I can't let her slip away again. I need answers, and I need them now. Was the dance just a set-up by Abatos to have her get close to me? Spy on me? Steal from me?
Was she to reappear in my life just to learn the Zolotov secrets?
"Robin," I say, grabbing her arm firmly as she turns to face me, her eyes wide with surprise. “Tell me your full name.”
"Let go of me!" she protests, struggling against my grip. But I don't relent; if anything, I tighten my hold, unwilling to let her escape.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but you need to tell me what I want to know," I growl.
