And Iakov freezes on the threshold.
His eyes go to Arielle first. She’s sitting on the couch, hands folded in her lap, face pale but composed. Then his gaze shifts to me. To the gun in my hand.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks carefully.
I don’t move. “Close the door.”
“Stefan—”
“Close. The. Door.”
He does. Slowly. His eyes never leave mine. “If you hurt her?—”
“I’m not going to hurt her. Not if you give me what I want.”
“Which is?”
“My mother has Olivia. I need to know where she’s keeping her.”
Iakov’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” I spit. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
“I’m telling you the truth. Natalia doesn’t tell me everything. She never has.”
I extend the gun towards Arielle. She flinches when the barrel touches the back of her head. I don’t do it hard, just enough for her to feel it. More importantly, forIakovto feel it.
The fear. The danger.
Iakov goes rigid. “Don’t.”
“Then help me.”
“I told you, I don’t know where the fuck she is!”
Arielle speaks up, her voice hoarse and high-pitched but calm. “He’s not going to kill me.”
I look down at her. “You sure about that?” I ask.
“Yes.” She swallows hard. “You’re not a killer. Not like this.”
“I’ve killed plenty of people, Arielle.”
“Not innocent ones.”
She’s dead fucking wrong. I’ve killed innocent people. Mikayla Vladislav was innocent. Or at least, she was—before my mother twisted her into something else.
But Arielle doesn’t know that.
“Iakov,” she whispers, still not looking at him, “help him.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Iakov takes a half-step forward. I press the gun harder against Arielle’s skull and hestops in his tracks. “He’s got a gun to your head and you want me tohelphim?”
“What would you do if someone abducted me?” Arielle asks.
Iakov’s face goes through about a hundred different emotions in the span of three seconds. Rage. Fear. Frustration. Resignation.
“I’d do the same,” he admits quietly.
