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“Is that all you have in your arsenal? You’lltryto change Timofey’s mind?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “I think we both know you can do better than that. I mean, fuck, forget Timofey. Save yourself.”
I have no intention of forgetting Timofey, but as long as Kreshnik is talking, he isn’t killing me. “How?”
His smile twists into a sickening mask. I’m instantly covered in goosebumps from head to toe.
“You pointed out that I’m lacking an heir.” He runs his tongue over his lower lip. “Offer to give me one."
I gawk at him. "You want…"
He nods before I can find the words. "As I said, men have thrown away plenty more for less than you. You’re not bad to look at and your fire is intriguing. I could be swayed to change my plans."
I want to refuse him outright. I mean, how could anyone accept an offer like this? It's repulsive. I'd rather die.
But… Timofey. Benjamin.
Would I rather they die, too?
"So if I—" I swallow hard. “If I went with you instead, you’d let Timofey live.”
He laughs. “Fuck no. Timofey is dying. What, do you think he’d let me live if he knew I was fucking his girlfriend for the next twenty years? That wouldn’t exactly encourage neighborly affection.”
Twenty years?I feel faint.
My entire life, gone. It doesn’t matter if I’ll technically be alive. Living with someone like Kreshnik would be worse than death.
“What about Benjamin?” I ask.
“Afraid he has to die, too. He has the wrong blood pumping in his little veins. Can’t have that.” He looks down at Benjamin with a smile, no sign at all on his face that he plans to murder him in the next few minutes. “But you could save yourself, Piper. If you submit to me, I’ll let you live.”
The room is spinning. How long has it been since I’ve eaten anything substantial? My feet tingle. I can’t even be sure they are connected to the ground.
Kreshnik moves towards me, and I’m so out of it that I don’t even try to back away. “I could give you everything Timofey has offered and more. Luxury and finery. Fucking like you wouldn’t believe.”
I shake my head. “I can’t—”
“You can,” he purrs, suddenly persuasive. Was this his goal all along? Or maybe another in a long line of backup plans. “Timofey plucked you out of the sewer and polished you up. You don’t want all of that to be for nothing, do you? You’ll die if you refuse me.”
I search his face for any sign of mercy or concern. Is he making me this offer because he doesn’t want to kill me?
But the longer I hesitate over my answer, the more the amusement in his eyes becomes apparent.
“You’re… you’re fucking sick,” I hiss. “You’re doing all of this just so you can hurt Timofey.”
“Of course I am. I want to kill him, so—”
“But you want to hurt him as much as you can before you do. And you realized the only thing better than killing me in front of Timofey would be revealing that I’ve turned my back on him. You want to parade me around as your new toy before you kill him. Well, sorry to steal your fun, but I’d rather choke on my own blood than even pretend to be interested in you.”
His nostrils flare, and he pushes a rough hand through his gray-streaked hair. “That can be arranged.”
He backs away slowly, moving towards the makeshift bassinet where Benjamin was sleeping. “Actually, maybe my plans should shift a little. You know what would be worse than Timofey watching you die? Him walking in and finding you already dead. No hope to be found in a corpse. No second chances. No emotional goodbyes. Just a quick, brutal end to your pathetic life. What do you say?”
Before I can respond, the door to the storage room slams open. We both turn to look.
“Sergey! Finally,” Kreshnik crows. “I was starting to think you weren’t—”
But it isn’t Sergey.
“Timofey,” I breathe.
