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“Yes, I can. And I will.” His grip on my hair tightens. “Your asshole brothers made a very stupid decision when they came after my family. They killed my mother, so now I’m going to kill you.”
“They didn’t kill anyone. I swear they didn’t do anything.” My voice tears. “Don’t do this. Please.”
“They will suffer the same pain as we have.” He ignores my plea, hovering his face over mine. His eyes glitter with hatred. “But instead of them finding you dead, I want them to watch me kill you. I want them to feel as powerless as I did when my mother died. I want them to feel their hearts being ripped from their chests when they realize they can’t do a goddamn thing to save you.”
A sob deep in my chest fights to erupt.
“Who the hell are you?” I choke out the words, shuddering as he grabs me by the hips.
“My name is Danil Malikov. And I’m here to punish you for their sins.” He lets his hands roam over my ass cheeks, his heated glare boring into me like I’m a bug being smoked under a magnifying glass.
“Oh my God,” I mutter.
My violet-tinted contact lenses and dyed brown hair obviously disguise me well because he shows no hint of recognition at all. Back in Kiev, he knew me as a green-eyed blonde. I gave myself a makeover as soon as I started touring for concerts, for protection.
To him, I’m just a to-be-victim, a casualty of his war…a war he’s fighting against the wrong enemy.
My brothers think Danil Malikov killed Tato back in Ukraine out of revenge after what they described as a disastrous business meeting.
Icy cold hands grab my heart and squeeze it tight.
But that’s impossible.
Because if this man really is Danil Malikov, he spent that night withme.
And that means, holy fuck, I’m his alibi.
Chapter7
Danil
The pads of my fingertips prickle as they roam over Larysa’s trembling body. Seeing her pictures, watching her video performances — nothing prepared me for the reality of her. Long, thick hair, violet eyes, full pink lips. Even straight out of the shower, she’s stunning. I know I should tear my hands away from her and finish the job I came to do, but an unexplainable magnetic pull keeps me tethered to her.
Because there’s something about her, aside from her looks. It’s something deep that I can’t see, only sense. Something I feel like I’ve experienced before, like a fucked-up case of déjà vu. Ironic since I’m here to kill her, not screw her.
But even my objective isn’t enough to pry me away from this girl.
I’ve got a knife, but she’s got The Force. And damn, it’s strong with her.
And for as much as I hate her for her family ties, and for as easy as it would be to slit her throat and walk away, I want to bend her over my knee and spank her ass bright red using all the fury I can channel through the palm of my hand. I want to hear her scream my name, to beg for more, to submit to me.
It will finally give me back the control I lost when Dad put his trust in me to meet with Olek Moroz and get him to work with our organization. It was a deal that would have made us hundreds of millions of dollars. But Olek rejected my proposal.
After that, my family’s whole world imploded.
Dad and Dima were gunned down, my sister Valentina disappeared.
Before he died, Dima never let me forget how badly I screwed the family as a result of that meeting. Even now, I can still hear his scathing words and condescending prick voice. He never let me forget what destruction I caused because of that meeting. He took every opportunity to pummel me with my failures and rub my nose in the fact that I had nothing else going for me.
He was right.
I used to be damn good at hockey, but my dreams of playing for the NHL shattered like a shot-up pane of glass after a car accident permanently damaged the peripheral vision in my right eye. Dima had sent me on an errand that night, and a car ran a red light at an intersection, plowing into the driver’s side door.
It was game over for me.
My plans for a career went up in flames. Throngs of scouts who’d come out of the woodwork to watch me play dissipated like a fart in the wind.
I had one option left.
