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In the moments when Finn tries to bring up the future, I find myself silencing him with kisses instead, and that makes it impossible not to go further, too. I don’t want to talk about the future, about the possibility of what comes next when we leave, about whether I’m still leaving Chicago, and, if I did, whether or not he would come with me. I don’t want to think about any of it, because it raises too many questions I’m not prepared to answer.
Especially with the way he makes me feel.
Sleeping in the same bed makes it impossible to resist each other, too. For so long, I thought I didn’t want anyone else in my bed, making sure never to bring anyone home, enjoying the space that was mine and mine alone. But now, with Finn, I find myself wondering if I’ll ever be able to be happy sleeping alone again. Every night since that first night we gave in to our desire, I’ve fallen asleep in his arms, spooned against the curve of his body, or with my head pillowed on his broad chest, his arms around me, safe and secure.
I want to stay like that, and it scares me and makes me happy in equal measure. I never thought I would have this again, but now that I have it, I have no idea how we can make it work. And having found it, I don’t want to lose it again.
I have no doubt that by now, everyone in the house knows what we’re up to. I can’t be embarrassed about it, really—we’re not doing anything wrong, and the security guards at least try to make themselves tactfully scarce. We get hints of what’s going on beyond the cabin when we emerge to eat, the head of Theo’s security especially letting Finn know what Theo and Nikolai are up to. They made one attempt to go after Matvei, we’re told, but several of their men were killed, and Matvei withdrew to a different location outside Chicago, a mansion that’s well guarded. For all his lack of connections, he doesn’t lack money or the muscle to back it up.
Finn doesn’t hide what’s going on from me, to my relief. Theo keeps him apprised of the situation, and from what he’s told, Matvei has leveraged what connections he does have among some of the smaller organizations in the city—upstarts, those who haven’t had the success they want or think they deserve, those who resent the Vasilev, McNeil, and Mancini families for the success they have had in ruling the criminal underbelly of this city. “They resent it the same way Matvei does,” Finn tells me as we eat dinner one night after he gets off the phone with Theo, twirling pasta around a fork. “They think they deserve to have more of a piece of it all than they do. Lilliana—Nikolai’s wife—her father was the same. Matvei is positioning himself to be their leader, trying to unite them under his leadership in hopes that together, they can achieve what they haven’t been able to on their own. Clearly, they didn’t learn from Narokov’s errors. But they’re working on flushing out those responsible—leveraging threats, if need be. Theo and Nikolai will handle it, and they’ve spoken with the head of the mafia too, Don Mancini. There’s nothing to fear.”
I know he’s trying to reassure me, but one day turns into another, it’s hard not to feel restless and anxious—I know Finn is beginning to feel much the same, although both of us are all too easily distracted by each other.
“I feel guilty,” Finn tells me the next afternoon, lying in bed next to me. “I should be helping Theo. And instead, I’m here, recovering—it’s hard to even be upset about it, because I’m here with you. I’d rather spend day after day in your arms instead of handling strategy and going after Kotov—even though bringing him down means you’re safer. It’s selfish of me.” He runs his fingers through my hair, trailing them down the side of my neck. “I’ve never felt this way before, Felicity,” he says softly. “I’ve never wanted someone so much that everything else seemed meaningless, even the job I’ve spent my life trying to prove that I’m capable of doing well. You take over everything. You make me want—”
I kiss him, cutting off whatever it was that he was about to say next, feeling him turn malleable under my hands, leaning into me with that need that’s always so close to the surface. I know what he wants, because I want it too.
I don’t have the answer for either of us.
We fall asleep in each other’s arms afterward, exhausted and satisfied for the moment. And then, I’m awakened out of a dead sleep by a sound I, unfortunately, know all too well now.
At first, I hope I had dreamed it. I jerk awake in the darkness, sitting bolt upright next to Finn, and then I hear it again.
Crack! Over and over, the sharp sounds bursting through the air on the lower floor, the horrible, teeth-clenching rattle of gunshots—then shouts filling that same air, boots stomping as I hear them start to come up the stairs, and the horrible, sickening thud of bodies falling. Sounds I’m not as familiar with as the men here around me are, but I know them anyway.
My heart leaps into my throat, choking me with fear, and Finn is up in an instant, groping at the nightstand for his gun.
The door bursts open, and I scream.
The light flicks on, momentarily blinding me with the abrupt brightness of it, and I see Matvei in the doorway like some horrible nightmare, his men pouring into the room around him. For a moment, I think I must be dreaming,hopingthat I’m dreaming, enough to dig my nails into my upper arms as I clutch the blanket to my chest, not wanting to give Matvei the satisfaction of seeing me naked again.
A smile spreads across his face as I stare at him, fear strangling me, making it hard for me to breathe. I hear Finn curse, hear the sound of a fist meeting flesh, and then Idoscream as I see him being dragged down to the floor, his gun spinning away from him as Matvei’s men hold him down, a heavy boot on the back of his neck and another pressed against his spine, more on his arms, pinning him down as he shouts my name.
Matvei stalks towards me like a predator, that awful grin still on his face. “I finally found you,devochka,” he purrs, cracking his knuckles as he approaches the bed. He’s wearing a pristine suit, pressed to perfection and tailored especially for him. It somehow seems ridiculous how much effort he’s gone to in order to look like the perfect villain. Like he dressed for this moment, imagined it in his head.
“How many times have you pictured this?” I spit out, trying not to shrink back against the pillows, horribly aware that I’m naked under the blanket. “Did you practice whatever you’re going to say next in the mirror? Recite your lines on the way here? Whatever it is, spit it—”
His hand shoots out, grasping my throat. It’s too tight, cutting off my air, and I choke and splutter, twisting in his grasp.
“Felicity!” Finn shouts my name, and I can see him bucking against the men holding him in my periphery, slowly growing darker at the edges as Matvei squeezes.
“Felicity?” Matvei sounds pleased, but the sound of my name on his lips makes me feel as if I’m going to vomit. “Is that your real name,devochka? I’ll enjoy saying it while I fuck you. Maybe it will emphasize what you haven’t seemed to grasp yet—that you’re going to be mine. I won you that night at the Ashen Rose, and you’ve tried to slip from my hands since, but you’re never going to get away entirely, littlekotenok. Not from me.”
His hand loosens a little, just enough for me to get air, and he grabs the blanket, snatching it down to reveal my bare flesh. I force myself not to cry out, glaring up at him instead with every bit of defiance I can muster.
“You got me foronenight,” I hiss. “Not all of them. And anyway, why would you want to fuck me now?” I sneer at him, trying to squirm into an angle that will let me kick him right where it might give me a moment to fight back. “I’m full of another man’s cum. Is that how you want me? Your cock covered in someone else’s release?”
It’s the only thing I can think of to stop him, at least for a moment, from where I know this is going, what I know he wants to make Finn watch. Anything to buy me time, to—
The slap across the side of my face leaves me reeling. Another, sending my head to the other side again, hard enough that it twists something in my neck, pain shooting down my spine. Matvei lifts me, throwing me back across the bed, my head hanging so I can see Finn’s horrified face as he bucks and twists against his captors. Matvei pins me down, the sound of him dragging down his zipper filling the room as I suddenly feel the cold metal against my neck.
“Try fighting me now, bitch,” he hisses, and I feel the bite of the blade. “I’m going to fuck you with this knife against your throat, and then slit it while I come in you. How’s that for me fucking you after another man, you used up cunt?”
Terror fills me, blinding and white, and for a moment, I’m frozen. This is far beyond me, far beyond any situation I’ve ever found myself in, and for a moment, I feel a flood of hopelessness.This is it. This is how I die. Fucked to death by a man who I’d rather see in his grave.It’s not how I saw my life ending, but for a brief and horrible moment, I don’t see a way out.
“Felicity! Felicity, no—” Finn is fighting desperately to get free, and I see the gun that was knocked out of his hands, inches away from mine. If I could get it to him—
I’m risking everything by trying it—by attempting the plan slowly formulating in my head, a wild and desperate plan that almost certainly won’t work, but is all I can think of. And if it doesn’t—
