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She sensed I was staring at her, shifting abruptly toward the window, resting her elbow on the arm of the seat.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the ache I had inside only increasing with every hour spent on the goddamn plane. As I took another sip, I noticed she’d darted a single glance in my direction.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, exhaustion settling in her voice. She’d yet to sleep, and had refused any food, only sipping on the bottle of water she’d accepted. Even her lovely eyes had dimmed, the once brilliant light fading.
Without answering her, I rose to my feet, moving past her toward the bar. I refreshed my drink, pouring her a glass as well. Then I pulled one of the small packets of sedatives I’d also brought from the house. While it wasn’t my intention to keep her drugged, there were too many instances where she could cause undue notice prior to returning to my personal estate. When I brought her the drink, easing the tumbler over her shoulder, she shook her head.
“Don’t defy me, Emily. You’re extremely tense. This will calm your nerves.”
“I have every right to be tense! You kidnapped me. You’re taking me to God knows where. You’ve punished me and I’m certain you’ll do so again because you enjoy inflicting pain on others. You tell me my father was murdered by the people you work for, and you’re blaming me for the admirable work that he did.”
“Admirable?”
“I’d say cleaning scum off the streets falls into that category.”
I kept the glass in front of her face, furious that she’d crawled so far under my skin I hadn’t immediately disciplined her for her insolence. “Be very careful what you say to me, Emily. While I have very thick skin, I deserve respect.”
She laughed, the sound as if her last resolve was ready to crack. “You must be joking.”
“I never joke about loyalty or respect. That’s something you will learn. Take. The. Drink.”
Exhaling, she finally wrapped her fingers around the glass, holding it with enough force her knuckles were white within seconds. “Respect is earned, not forced. Much like love.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I sat down in the chair opposite her. “Love is a product of greeting cards and Hallmark movies and nothing else.”
My comment intrigued her. She swung around, her eyes darting back and forth. “So a monster like you doesn’t have the capability of feeling love?”
“As I said, it’s overrated. A pipe dream.” I’d never had a single conversation about the emotion to anyone. There was no need. A man like me wasn’t capable of feeling anything other than anger.
“That’s very sad, whatever your name is. Love is the reason to wake up every morning. The moment you love someone is the moment you know the reason you’re alive and that you can get through anything. Tragedy. Loss. Heartache. Sickness.” There was a haze in her eyes, as if she’d been searching her entire life for the very love she was describing but didn’t believe in it any more than I did.
“My little dreamer.” I lifted my glass in salute, noticing she’d struggled enough in her bindings that her wrists were chafed. I cursed inwardly at myself for causing her any pain. While necessary, it burned me.
“Dreaming is very special. It’s what keeps some people alive through pain and heartache. But you wouldn’t understand anything like that so why bother explaining it?” She looked away once again, closing her eyes tightly.
“My name is Kostya.”
I noticed she rolled the syllables over her tongue silently. “You are Russian.”
“Half.”
She smiled for the first time simply because I’d given her answers. “Spanish.” At least my answer allowed her to feel comfortable enough to take a sip of her drink. Her hand was still shaking, the liquid splashing back and forth.
“Close. Colombian.”
“Why did you blow up your own house?”
“As you might imagine, Emily, in my line of work, I have more enemies than I can count. Eddie had been in the process of exposing my real identity to the wrong people. I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
“So you eliminate every trace of your existence. Clever,” she said with clear disdain in her voice.
“I do what’s necessary to keep my business moving forward. I’m certain you can understand that.”
“Your business,” she huffed. “Criminal activity. Do you have a list of people to kill?”
I laughed at her snide remark. “My business entails many aspects,mi hermosa flor.”
“I’m not your beautiful flower. I’m not your anything. Do you hear me?”
