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“Well, well, well, I have the perfect bait to get your husband on the hook. Do you think he would trade your life for his?” The man is wide, but he’s shorter than Milos by four or five inches. He tightens his hand in my hair, as he pulls a gun from a holster on his waist. There’s another gun holstered low on his thigh.
I shake my head as fear allows real tears to fall. “He doesn’t love me or care for me. I’m a means to an end. If you take me, he’ll marry my sister instead.”
He frowns as he eyes the door. There is no sound from behind it even though they had to have heard the scream.
“I told you. He’s probably coming up with a reason I didn’t make it now.”
The man eyes the secret passage he came in through—I spot it glowing at the edge of Milos’s desk.
“Can I go with you?” I whisper.
Brown eyes go wide. “Are you fucking serious? You fucked him like you couldn’t get enough an hour ago.”
I shake my head. “Sex is sex. You heard him. He called me a slut. All he cares about is I’m willing to fuck him whenever he needs it. He makes me feel good but every time I hate myself a little more. Can I please go with you? He doesn’t care about me enough to protect me. He won’t come for me.”
“Fuck,” he mutters as he lets me go. “This was a waste of time and a chance.” His eyes are on the door then back to the hidden passageway.
Allowing my face to fall, I nod as my hands go down on the desk. His eyes aren’t on me, he never sees me pick up the letter opener, and it isn’t until I’m driving it up under his chin that he looks at me. Shock clear on his face, he drops his gun as he grabs for the letter opener. I drop straight down, grabbing the gun as I hit the floor, then roll away from him. It’s a Sig Sauer-something with an extended magazine. My nonna taught me to shoot using Glocks, but it isn’t all that different. Wrapping both hands around the grip, I flick the safety with my thumb, take a deep breath, aim for his head and pull the trigger.
His head explodes, blood splatters everywhere.
“Celia,” Milos thunders through the door.
I push off the floor and almost fall I’m trembling so badly. I cross the room, slide the lock back and back up as he opens the door.
“Jesus,kotyonok, no.” Taking the gun from me, he pulls me into his arms, holding me so tight I can’t breathe.
“He was going to kill you,” I whisper. “You would have done it. Traded yourself for me. I couldn’t let you do that, Milos. I couldn’t.”
Suddenly the room is filled with men. Every one of them moves like soldiers, security—security who failed. None of them say anything. Milos lifts me into his arms and carries me out into the cool night. The sounds of the city are dim.
When he slides into the car he doesn’t let me go. His arms wrap around me tight as the city passes by outside. It feels like only minutes later the car goes into a parking garage. We’re back at his condo, the place where I made a fool of myself and thought I’d never see him again.
I close my eyes tight. Only when I open them, it isn’t the same condo. Even the layout is different. It’s in the same building but I think if it’s possible it’s higher. This one is almost twice as big.
He carries me into the shower and turns it on, I wonder why then I see the bottom of the shower fill with blood. I had blood on me. Too bad. I liked this dress.
“I’ll buy you another dress, baby,” Milos whispers as he undresses me.
Blinking up at him, I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud. He’s standing under the rainfall showerhead with me. Still dressed, getting all wet. He grabs body soap as he wets a washcloth and runs it over me. He’s gentle for the first time tonight. Are his hands shaking?
“You’re all wet,” I mumble. My hands go up to undo his shirt but are numb and fumble with the buttons.
His hands go over mine. “I’ve got it. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.”
He tears his shirt off then his pants down. Stepping out of his shoes. Why did he wear shoes into the shower? My mind is growing fuzzy, thinking is too hard. I close my eyes. But god, I see it, feel the gun buck in my hands and see his head explode and blood go everywhere. I shot at cans, at paper targets. Not people. “It’s just in case,piccolina, there are no guarantees in life,” my nonna told me as she ordered me to empty another magazine, and don’t miss this time.
There was a guarantee though. A guarantee I would bet my entire life on. Milos would give up his life for mine. He wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t try to find another way where we could both walk away. If I hadn’t killed the man, Milos would have died. Maybe not tonight or even tomorrow, but his uncle wants him dead. And his uncle was a Levin, Bratva, and what they wanted they got.
But I’m a Levin now too. And I want Milos forever.
Chapter29
Celia
When I wakeup I’m alone. I roll over, the sheets are still warm from Milos. Pushing myself up, I run my hands through my damp hair. I lean against the soft velvet-tufted headboard surveying the room.
It had been dark in the room Milos was in. I hadn’t been able to see much besides him, but this feels very different. While the comforter and sheets are silky black, the headboard is white, as are thick fluffy rugs that cover dark hardwood floors. I’m almost positive it isn’t regular wallpaper on the walls—it’s silk in a silverish gray. The room is huge, there is a seating area with a lone leather chair, a side table with a lamp that looks out of the wall of thick glass with an amazing view of Lake Michigan.
