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Fuck.
I should let them kill her. It will be merciful compared to what lies ahead.
I stare at Prodi, and as he gestures to one of the men to take care of Everleigh, I hiss, “She’s my girlfriend.”
What the fuck are you doing?
Prodi gives a skeptical look, then orders, “Go get the girl.”
He doesn’t believe the lie we’ve told him.
I keep my expression neutral, and when Everleigh is dragged back into the room, she’s also shoved down on a chair, and her wrists are strapped to the armrests.
Her eyes are wide on the knife embedded into the back of my hand, and it looks like she’s going to puke.
“How long have you been in a relationship?” Prodi asks.
“Just over a year,” I answer so Everleigh doesn’t fuck things up.
“Don’t you like Russian pussy?” he asks.
“I like my women exotic,” I mutter. “If it weren’t for Everleigh, I’d try some Italian pussy.”
The knife is ripped from my hand, and a curse bursts from me, “Iisus Khristos.” I shake my head and chuckle darkly because, so help me God, I will kill Riccardo Prodi.
One of Prodi’s men walks to Everleigh, and grabbing her hair, he yanks her head back and presses the knife to her pulse. She makes a squeaking sound, her terrified gaze darting to me.
I’ve seen fear before but nothing like the horror in her amber eyes.
Christ, you’re going to get yourself killed for a woman you don’t know.
“Tell me about your girlfriend,” Prodi says as he lights another cigarette.
“She’s from Ohio. She recently lost her parents, so she only has me.” I hate lying, but I’m fucking good at it. “She just finished school and came to Russia to be with me. We’re going to elope so I can keep her here with me.”
Prodi tilts his head, his eyes flicking between us. “You don’t look in love.”
“No fucking shit,” I mutter. “This isn’t the honeymoon I envisioned for us.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when your brother ripped off her nail,” he mentions. He gestures to his men, then says, “Choose who will take the beating from my men.”
Fuck my life.
I shake my head as I let out a chuckle, “Of course, it will be me.”
He nods, and a soldier comes to unstrap my forearms, and I’m pulled to a standing position. It’s only then I notice the pool of blood that’s formed by the leg of the chair.
If Prodi doesn’t kill us, infection will. I doubt the man is going to provide us with first aid.
Another soldier comes to yank my arms behind my back, and cable ties are used to restrain me.
Everleigh’s breathless with fear, her eyes still glued to me.
The men attack all at once, and with my wrists tied, I can’t do much to defend myself. I take punch after punch and hear Everleigh cry, “Please stop! You’re going to kill him.”
I stagger a step back while a grin spreads over my face, “It will take a hell of a lot more than this to kill me, sweetheart.”
The next punch to my nose drops my ass to the floor. The men start to kick, and when a boot slams into my head, everything goes black.
