“Please… if I tell you, they’ll kill me…”
I lean in close. “You should be more scared of me than whoever is out there. Because I’m the one holding your life in my hands. Talk.”
“The person you’re looking for is closer than you think.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
He opens his mouth, eyes wide with terror?—
Then his body starts jerking violently. Convulsions. Foam at the mouth. His eyes roll back. Before I can do anything, he slumps forward, dead.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the wall, leaving a dent and splitting my knuckles further.
I didn’t get the answers I needed. But his last words echo in my head.
“The person you’re looking for is closer than you think.”
The rat is someone inside my inner circle. Someone I trust. Whoever they are, I will find them.
And when I do, their death will be slow and painful.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Calina
I wake up slowly to an empty bed.
The space beside me is cold. Maxim isn’t here. For a second, I feel a strange pang of disappointment, which I immediately shove down hard.
I should be grateful. I don’t have to face the awkward morning-after conversation like yesterday. No pretending last night didn’t happen. No dealing with the memory of his body pressed against mine, his hands on me, his mouth claiming me.
But then why does my body miss the warmth? Why do I keep remembering how it felt to have my head resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat when I woke up yesterday morning?
Get over yourself, Calina.
I can’t fall for him. I won’t. Men like Maxim don’t do love. They take. They use. They break hearts and move on.
Whatever happened between us last night was just physical for him. A moment of weakness on my part. For him, it would’ve been nothing more than sex. I need to protect myself. I need to guard my heart.
I force myself out of bed, shower quickly, and get dressed in one of the proper outfits I bought during the shopping trip with the girls.
When I head downstairs, the house feels unusually quiet. No sign of Maxim. No Viktor. No Dmitri. The staff moves around silently, but the main areas are empty.
I pour myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. My appetite still hasn’t returned, so I tell Olga I’ll eat later. I sip the hot liquid slowly, wondering where Maxim is. It's just past 7 a.m., he usually doesn't leave for work this early.
Did he even come back to the bedroom last night? I think back to Viktor's rude comment. I guess I should have seen that coming after I pulled that stunt of coming downstairs half-naked. He really does hate me.
My heart warms at the way Maxim defended me. I hate to come between Maxim and his men, but Viktor had no right.
Thinking about Maxim, makes me want to see him, and for some reason I can’t explain, my feet carry me toward his office. Maybe he’s in there.
I stop in front of the heavy wooden door, and knock, hoping he’s inside.
No response.
I try the handle. To my surprise, the door opens easily. For a room he’s so strict about keeping everyone out of, he doesn’t even bother locking it.
I know he warned me about coming in here, but I can't seem to help myself. I walk over to the massive desk and sit in his chair, feeling strangely bold.
