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“Not yet, but I’m about to,” I snap. “Now step back.”
He sighs and takes a step back and then another, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“What the ever-loving fuck? I told you I’m married.” I try to ignore how breathless I feel, my heart galloping like a wild mustang. He stares at me, his arms folded across his chest as he waits for me to continue.
“I’m going home. To Greece,” I clarify.
“To your husband?” he adds snarkily.
“Yes, to my husband.”
“And how sure are you that this husband is not the one responsible for all this?”
My mouth snaps shut at that. My immediate reaction is to tell him Calix wouldn’t do that, but that was before he thought I’d betrayed him.
“What’s to say that this man you want to hurry home to didn’t arrange all of this just to get you out of the way.”
“I don’t deal in what ifs. I deal in facts. So, unless Calix admits to me that he did this himself, I’ll keep on believing that someone took me—either to get to me or to get to him.”
“Calix?” He tilts his head like a hunter studying his prey.
“Let’s just go our separate ways. You can pretend you never saw me, and I’ll return the favor.”
He stalks toward me again, not giving an iota about the gun pointed at him. As much as shooting him feels appealing, the last thing I need is the Bratva chasing me down. I pull back and drop my arm. He grabs my wrist, not squeezing but keeping my hand in place so I can’t aim it at him again.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,ahn-gyil.”
“That’s twice you’ve called me that now. What does it mean?”
I allow him to take the gun from me and duck under his arm as he slides it back into his holster.
“It means angel.”
I suck in a sharp breath and close my eyes in defeat. “You know who my husband is, don’t you? You knew all along.” I open my eyes and turn to face Maxim.
He merely nods his head.
“Are you his friend or his enemy?”
“That, my dear, all depends on you.”
“Have I ever mentioned how I hate cryptic motherfucker wannabe Bond villains?”
He chuckles, the sound rich and dark, like my favorite chocolate. “Yes, this is going to be fun.”
“Well, if you’re having fun, I want to have fun too.” And with that, I pull back my arm and punch him in the face.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Well, it has to be said, punching the Russian pakhan was not one of my finer moments, but seeing the smug as fuck smile wiped off his face totally makes it worth it.
He licks the blood from his lip before pulling a white handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing away the blood. “Feel better?”
“A little. Maybe if you let me hit you a few more times, I’ll feel a lot better.”
He laughs before turning and walking toward the door. “Yes, you’ll do nicely.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
