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He opened champagne to celebrate, but he barely spoke during the entire flight home. When we landed, he drove me home, dropped me off, and disappeared back to wherever he lived.

I still couldn’t believe it’d been real. I saw things I never dreamed I would. So much blood, so much death. Pain and wrecked human bodies. When I closed my eyes, I could taste the smell of gunpowder in the air and the metallic tang of blood.

It made me sick. And still the feeling of Calvin’s lips against mine lingered, and that incredible hunger rumbled in my core.

“So what are you going to do? Does he still want to marry you?”

“I think so. I don’t really know. We haven’t spoken since he dropped me off.”

“God, he’s so weird.”

“I know. You should’ve seen it, Cora. He walked around like the guns were nothing. He did things I didn’t think were possible. He was a nightmare.”

“You sound like you enjoyed your trip.”

I glared at her, but she was right. I heard the note of worship in my tone.

Another reason for my ever-present self-loathing.

I stood up and shook my head.

“I never want to go to Latvia again. Lovely country though.”

She laughed and joined me. We walked through the central quad and split at the far side. She had class and I wanted to kill an hour in the library.

I breathed deep the crisp smell of Blackwoods and tried not to think about Calvin. It was impossible, of course—he was in me, everywhere. Not just because of what happened, but also because of his letters, his touch, his eyes, his hands.

The near-death experience only heightened everything and intensified it.

I followed a quiet, shady sidewalk bordering the science building. The library was tucked back in a copse of trees. Ivy grew up its sides in twisting scales. I smiled to myself and didn’t notice the man step out from bushes to my left until he was right next to me.

“Excuse me,” he grunted, and slammed into me like a linebacker.

I went sprawling. I hit the ground hard and gasped. My shoulder ached and I shoved myself up on my hands, glaring death at me. “What the fuck is your—”

I stopped and stared.

He loomed over me, grinning. His mouth was so familiar, and that nose. He looked regal, like a prince.

Like Calvin, but not quite.

“You must be the girl.” He sneered. I knew that sneer. It was so frighteningly familiar.

“Who the hell are you?” But I knew already.

“My name’s Noah. You know my brother, Calvin.” He leaned down to stare into my eyes. “I’m here to kill you.”

I scrambled away.

Calvin’s brother.

He had two, both younger. Noah was the first, and Raymond was the second. I didn’t know much about them, except that their relationship was complicated, to say the least.

And Calvin suspected them of having set him up overseas.

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t try to speak. When he stepped closer, I lashed out, kicked him as hard as I could in the shin, then scrambled to my feet and ran.

I made it three steps before he grabbed my backpack and yanked me back.

I hit the pavement. The back of my head smashed down and I saw stars. I gasped, groaned, tried to struggle, but was too lightheaded and dizzy to do much. He hauled me aside, dragged me off the path, and into the bushes. He pushed me against the wall and pinned me there, one hand on my throat.

His lips pulled back in a vicious grin.

“Calvin talked about you. He says you’re going to be his wife. Is that true? Are you going to marry my big brother?”

“Fuck you,” I said through gritted teeth. I could barely breathe. His grip tightened and I gagged. I wanted to spit in his face, but I thought he might kill me.

Hell, he might do it anyway.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Any woman that would marry my older brother must be messed up in the head. Are you messed up, Robyn? If not, I can fix that.”

I struggled. “Let me go, you psycho.”

“You went with him to Latvia.” His face tensed. “What happened?”

“You tell me.”

He snorted. “All I know is my agents failed to follow through with the kill, and now here you are, still breathing and happy.”

My heart fluttered and pulsed. I wasn’t happy, that was for sure. I was terrified.

What did he mean, the kill? Was I the target all along?

I didn’t know what to do. If I struggled, his hand might smash my windpipe and kill me. If I did nothing, he might strangle me to death anyway. I was trying to suck in air and it was getting harder and harder, and my head hurt, and my shoulder ached.

I hated that I was a part of this. I never asked for it. I told Calvin to leave me alone repeatedly. And yet I was sucked into his family drama, and the consequences were life and death with these people.

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