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People still use swords?
“Who the fuck are you?” Tony manages through gritted teeth. The dagger landed precisely in the center of his right wrist, just below his palm. Severing important nerves, I’m sure.
“Someone your employer was unwilling to negotiate with.” As with earlier at the bar, Sofie remains calm and collected, unafraid. She’s swapped her emerald gown for head-to-toe black. It amplifies the intensity of her hair color. “I hope you are more intelligent than he was.”
Both Tony and Pidge scan the office. I assume they’re looking for proof that she didn’t slaughter four armed men on her own with nothing other than a sword. Maybe the two men sitting in the SUV out front were the ones to do this. But the speed and precision with which Sofie threw those daggers suggests her fully capable of it, and more.
My insides stir as I survey the bodies more closely, their guns on the floor beside them. All had drawn their weapons, and they’re all dead.
Even that last shred of life in Korsakov’s eyes is now gone.
“What were you negotiating for?” Tony’s attention lingers on his older brother. Does he feel any sorrow for the loss?
The weight of Sofie’s eyes as they shift to me stalls my heart. “Her.”
Beware of the demon with the flaming hair. She hunts for you.
I shove my father’s mad rants from my mind.
“You want her?” There’s disbelief in Tony’s voice. “For what?”
“That is none of your concern.” A tiny, knowing smile curls her lips as she regards me. “Let’s just say it’s something only she can help me with.”
What could Sofie possibly need me to steal that would be worth all this? My mind rifles through our early conversation. Did she leave the charity event knowing she would be coming here to slaughter Korsakov? She must have. If I had accepted her offer and left with her, would she have let them be?
Who is this woman?
Tony licks his lips. “How much are you offering me for her?”
Korsakov’s Italian suede loafers aren’t even cold, and Tony is already trying to jam his sweaty feet into them. With everyone else gone, he’s likely to inherit the operation. If he makes it out of here alive, and the way Sofie is examining him, I have reason to doubt it.
“For her?” Sofie cocks her head. “She is not a mule for purchase. Clearly, you’ve misunderstood. I offered to spare your employer’s life if he released her from her debt to him, which he foolishly refused. Now he is dead, and she is no longer bound to him. I am simply giving you the choice to either allow us to leave peacefully or forfeit your lives.”
Tony glowers at her and for a moment, I think he’s going to lunge. A part of me hopes he does.
“Don’t be stupid,” Pidge pleads under his breath, cradling his injured arm.
“Fine.” Tony sneers at me. “She’s a worthless bitch, anyway.”
Sofie’s face hardens, her eyes narrowing as they drop to where dark bruises matching meaty fingers have started to form on my biceps. “Perhaps I should not be the one to choose your outcome.” She stands and rounds the desk, her delicate hand curling around the hilt of the bloodied sword. “Should we or should we not leave them breathing, Romeria?”
My stomach drops. She knows my real name. How the hell does she know my real name?
“What will it be? Life”—Sofie presses the tip of her blade against Tony’s neck—“or death?”
He grimaces as a drop of blood swells against his skin where the sharp point nudges. His blue eyes dart to mine and mixed in with the usual medley of hatred and anger is fear.
I look away, unable to digest the latter. Tony’s a degenerate and an asshole. He hurt a helpless man tonight for no good reason. He wanted to see me suffer, even be killed. He deserves to lie in a heap next to the rest of these lifeless bodies.
My attention drifts to them. Irving has a pregnant girlfriend at home. Gavin’s twin sons giggle as they hide behind their fence and shoot unsuspecting neighborhood passersby with their water guns. Mark just closed on his first house with his wife. Korsakov leaves behind a daughter who will be devastated. They’re men who I would never label “good,” but they’ll be mourned all the same.
While I may be a thief, I’ll never be an executioner. “Let them go.”
Sofie waits a few beats but then lowers her blade with a heavy sigh. “She shows mercy where I would not. I’ll admit, that’s a quality I admire and abhor equally.”
Both men release the slowest exhales.
“If you two have an ounce of intelligence, you will remain here until we have departed.”
