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He turns toward me, ignoring his bloody nose as if it’s a regular occurrence. “You know who I am. You know the kind of man I replaced. I am trying to bring the Bratva into the future, but there are those who prefer the old ways.”
“You can’t be surprised by this.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not. I expected it, however, the people who would like to see me fail seem very good at getting information about me. Too good.”
“You have a traitor in your ranks,” I surmise.
He nods. “Yes, it seems so. What I need is someone to watch and listen. Someone who won’t immediately arouse suspicion because most men will be too busy adjusting their cocks when they see her.”
“Her who?” I ask, though I suspect I won’t like the answer.
“Why you, of course. My lovely girlfriend.”
Yep, I was right. I don’t like that answer at all. “I realize you do things differently here in Russia, so I’m not going to maim you for suggesting I be your girlfriend when I have told you repeatedly told you that I have a husband,” I say as calmly as possible.
“Fake girlfriend. It’s just a cover, Sugar, so you can help me catch a rat. You wouldn’t want me to call Aslanov now, would you? I’m sure he’d be very happy to find out I’ve found you?”
“It’s like you want me to keep punching you. Are you seriously blackmailing me?”
He grins unrepentantly before he swings the door open, showing a man who looks at Maxim’s face before his eyes shift to me. His expression filled with the promise of death.
“Yuri, Miss Daniels will be staying with us for a while. Please see that she has everything she needs.”
“Sir?”
Maxim looks at him, and Yuri snaps his mouth shut, knowing better than to question his boss.
“Did I stutter, Yuri?”
“No, sir.” He steps back and allows Maxim to walk past him.
I head for the door too, but Yuri blocks it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, ahn-gyil. Be a good girl for Yuri,” Maxim calls as he walks away.
I squeeze my hands into fists, wanting to rip his pretty head from his body. Yuri cocks his eyebrow at me as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I flip him off and turn away, moving to the window. If the stupid bars weren’t there, I’d be out of here the second the door closes. But for now, I’m stuck like a caged animal. Maxim needs to watch himself because caged animals tend to bite.
Yuri mumbles something about food before closing the door, leaving me to berate myself for the stupid decisions I’ve made lately. And boy, I’ve made a few. Calix being one of them, apparently. Part of me refuses to believe he could be behind this. Hell, this is more Rémy’s style, but Rémy doesn’t have a single reason for this bullshit. After all, he got what he wanted. He was the domino that made all the others fall.
The look in Calix’s eyes when he left tore my insides apart. I swear, no matter what happens, that look of betrayal will be one that haunts me till the day I die. I know he’s ruthless. He might not be as sadistic as his brother, but he’s still a Cirillo, and the blood running through their veins is toxic in a way that poisons everything it touches.
Could he do this to me? Yes. He has it in him, but would he? That’s the part that has me struggling. I remember how soft his hands were on me when he tended to my wound. How pissed he was when he realized that Andino had snuck into our hotel room to rape me. I remember the relief in his eyes when I walked through that door and he realized I hadn’t left him. That man would sooner die than have a hand in my beating and kidnapping. Right?
I consider taking a shower to wash the blood from my body, but I’m suddenly exhausted, so I curl up on the bed and wonder how best to deal with the current situation. If I can’t get my head and heart on the same page, then I’m better off far away from Calix, at least until I’ve dealt with my own turbulent emotions. Right now, he’s too angry to hear what I have to say. I wonder if he’s worried about me or if he thinks I just up and left him—ran off into the sunset with Rémy, perhaps.
I rub my hands over my face, sick of thinking of Rémy and Calix. If Maxim wants me to play spy for him, then fuck it. I’ll do it. I’m safer here than back in Greece, and I can’t go home until I’ve cleaned up the mess I’ve made.
Of course, staying means it will be harder to find the answers I’m looking for about Santos, but Maxim is not without resources. If I do him a favor, he’ll owe me one of his own. What’s better than being owed a favor from the head of the Russian Bratva?
* * *
A little while later,Yuri returns with a tray of food and an ice pack. He places everything on the dresser before he retrieves a duffle bag from the hallway, which he places on the floor near the dresser. He looks at me and, in halting, broken English, tells me to eat and accept the gifts from the pakhan.
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly at the movement. Yuri is gone before I can say anything. I hear the lock turn a moment after the door closes, but I can’t resist trying the handle anyway. Confirming what I already know, I turn with a sigh and move to see what’s in the bag. I open the zipper and look inside to find bottles of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, and shower gel, as well as a razor, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. In the small inside pocket, I find a bunch of high-end makeup. I take it out and shake my head, instantly regretting the action, and wonder how on earth Yuri managed to find all this shit so quickly. Then I consider what I’m capable of and smile. Placing it all back inside, my hand brushes something soft at the very bottom of the bag. I pull out the delicate material and hold it up to find a short, silky nightdress in a deep eggplant color. I check the label, and—surprise, surprise—it’s my size.
Not knowing what to make of it all, I carry the bag into the bathroom and place it on the counter. Leaving the bathroom, I walk over to the dresser and pick up the tray of food and the ice pack before moving to the bed.
