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Mikhail
Ispend the entire drive back to the house wondering what to do about Natalia’s little friend.
Natalia claimed that she saw her again before we left the store, that she’d accepted the invitation to dinner. I’d been angry at first with Natalia for making that invitation, but I saw the gambit she was throwing down. If Ruby can be convinced that we’re loved up in domestic bliss, then there should be no reason for me to harm her. Once I’ve left for New York, I have no plans to return to Moscow until I’m once again a part of an organization powerful enough to protect me from any past wrong-doing. Certainly from the accusations of a lowbrow stripper.
The thought of her having to play the part of my doting girlfriend pleases me. The idea of watching her be forced to pretend for an entire evening that she’s happy to be here, that she wants me, feels like another means of getting my vengeance.
It gives me another idea, too. One that I don’t think I’ll have to wait too long to see it play out.
The moment we’re back in the house, Natalia turns to me, her face pale and her mouth trembling, her eyes wide. She looks more frightened than I’ve ever seen her. All the ways I’ve tried to terrify her, and she’d done her best not to crack, to throw it back in my face whenever she could. But the threat to her friend has undone her.
“Please.” Her voice is earnest, almost begging as she pulls the baseball cap off, tugging her hair loose nervously as she runs her fingers through it. “Please don’t hurt her, Mikhail. She won’t do anything. Even if she tried to tell someone, they probably wouldn’t believe her. You know that’s true. Please, it’s not her fault.”
I raise an eyebrow, watching her. “She’s very close to that line of knowing too much, Natalia. I don’t like leaving those sorts of loose ends. In fact, I make it a practice not to. I would never leave something like that not taken care of in my line of work–I can’t do that now either, just because it’s personal.”
All the blood drains from Natalia’s face, and she darts forward, grabbing my hand.
It’s all I can do to hold back the victorious smile that threatens to spread over my face. I’ve uncovered her weakness at last, and I plan to exploit it to its fullest.
“Mikhail,please,” she breathes, her hand wrapping around mine. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you if I can, whatever it is. Just promise me you won’t hurt her. We’ll play the loving couple when she comes over, and convince her that everything is fine, and then nothing bad has to happen. Right?”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and I smile down at her, slow and satisfied.
“If you tell me everything,” I tell her, watching those wide blue eyes looking up at me pleadingly, “if you answer every question I ask you, then I’ll consider it. How’s that?”
There’s not a single protest for her, not a sharp word in response. She swallows hard, nodding as she lets go of my hand, stepping back, and I could almost laugh at how easy it is. I could have saved a lot of time and trouble if I’d just used this against her from the start–but I can’t really regret it. I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with her.
Maybe too much.
“Just–” Natalia lets out a shaky breath. “Ask whatever you want. But I’m going to tell you thetruth, Mikhail. Whether it’s what you want to hear or not. So if you’re not getting what you want out of this, just remember that it’s still the truth. It’s not Ruby’s fault, or mine, if I can’t tell you something that you’ve decided you want to hear.”
Her voice is brittle, resentful, but there’s steel in it too, and I can’t help but admire that. I’ve never met a woman quite like her before, with the nerve that she has. She’s a remarkable woman, and it makes me feel, once again, faintly regretful that things have turned out the way they have–that she’s my enemy, and not someone I should want to keep for myself.
“Fine.” I point to the stairs. “Let’s go up to the bedroom. We’ll talk there.”
I can see, once we’re inside with the door locked behind me, that Natalia is reluctant to sit on the bed. But she finally does, kicking off her shoes as she perches on the edge, her eyes fixed warily on me. “Go ahead,” she says at last, letting out a breath. “Ask me what you want to know.”
I lean against the desk, my hands in my pockets as I look at her. She looks delicate and vulnerable, sitting there, waiting to finally give me everything I want to hear of her own free will. It’s delicious, and I feel a shiver of desire go down my spine.
“Did you kill your father?”
She shakes her head. “No. I showed the man who did the way in. I helped take out some of the guards. But I wasn’t the one who delivered the bullet, no.”
“How much did you know about his business?”
“Not much?” She presses her lips together. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it is the truth. My ‘job’, if you want to call it that, was to be pretty and polite at parties and dinners and galas, so that some powerful man would want to marry me and increase my father’s wealth and power in turn. I knew who was important and who my father would want to make an alliance with the most, who he had business dealings with, but he didn’t give me the fine details of that.”
“Did you know when he would keep someone prisoner? When he had someone in his compound being tortured? Did you know he did those things?”
Natalia blanches slightly, her mouth twisting. “Did I know about it? Yes–in the way that anyone related to or married to someone in this life knows that happens. But I rarely knew who. I heard once or twice through gossip and figured it out. It’s how my father came to his end, because I discovered who he was holding in the compound, and it mattered to me.”
The flood of rage that sweeps over me then is almost palpable. I move forward before I think, caging her up against the bed, my hand darting out to wrap around her slender throat. “So it only mattered to you once? Is that what you’re saying? It never mattered before who your father was hurting? What he was doing to punish others for their supposed crimes?”
Natalia glares up at me. “What do you want me to say? My father might not have killed me for crossing him, but he could have done plenty of other things that hurt me. Who would you risk angering a man like my father for? Anyone less than your own family?”
She realizes too late, as my hand clenches, that she hit a nerve. Her eyes go wide as I tighten my hand around her throat, knowing how easily I could kill her here and now, end her life with a quick motion–or draw it out. The blood is rushing in my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins, and I’m so very close to losing it.
“Mikhail–” My name comes out scratchy and broken, her hands tugging at my wrist, trying to loosen my grip. “Mikhail, please–”
