AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My hands start shaking.
“Well done, naïve girl,” Natasha says weakly, trying to push herself up despite the pain.
Her words knock me in the gut, and the gun slips from my trembling fingers. Even in self-defense, the act of killing is disturbing. And it is in that moment that I know I’m not made for this world of violence. But that’s not what sends tears streaming down my face.
If I cannot accept his world of violence, it means that I can never truly be with Nikolai. Suddenly, I remember Sorokin’s cruel words—that I will never be released to Nikolai.
“Eden!” Sorokin and his huge bodyguard run into the building, searching for us.
“Natasha’s hurt!” I cry out.
He emerges from around a corner, his expression alarmed as he takes in the scene. “Get her to the car.”
“A scratch, Radomil Ivanovich” Natasha tries to laugh but winces instead. The huge man reaches for her, pulling her intohis arms like a rag doll, and carries her quickly away. “I’ve had worse.”
“I don’t need Dmitri Chuikov coming after me!” Sorokin shouts and then turns to glare at me. “They’re falling back. You, in my office, where it’s safe.”
“I can’t …” I whimper.
“You must,” Sorokin commands as another guard appears.
He doesn’t understand. The horror of what I’ve done has immobilized me, making it hard to breathe. I stare at that lifeless body on the floor, and the blood moves quickly, heading toward my shoe. Panic rises in my throat like bile, and I feel myself start to sway.
“Radomil Ivanovich,” I choke out, tears streaming down my face. “I don’t belong here. This isn’t who I am!”
“Spokoino, girl.” Sorokin’s hand shoots out to steady me just as my knees buckle under me. His grip is firm and unyielding like he’s holding onto something precious that he can’t bear to let slip away. “Let me help you.”
“I killed him,” I sob, and Sorokin’s brow rises.
In my nervousness, his astonished expression becomes terribly funny. A string of laughter peals out of me before I can stop myself. And in the cold winter air, it sounds like a cackle.
He shoves the guard away, shouting in Russian, and the man runs off. Sorokin lets me lean heavily on him as he guides me from the range. We navigate our way past the bodies, but I freeze when I see a man on the ground, dark hair the same color as Nikolai’s, but his eyes are brown. They stare up at the frozen sky, lifeless and unmoving. Sorokin nudges me forward, but I can’thelp staring at those brown eyes. I blink, and suddenly they look like the same piercing green as Nikolai’s.
And my heart shatters. If it wasn’t for Sorokin guiding me forward, I wouldn’t be able to move.
Together, we trudge past the bodies as if they belong there, like the barren vines of his vineyard.
Shaking, I grip his hand tightly as we step into the house, and he guides me calmly toward his office, where guards stay by the door.
“Eden,” he replies softly, almost paternally. “You are stronger than you think. You did what was necessary.”
I’m given something to drink, and I taste something bitter and strong in it. Whatever is given to me, it takes effect quickly. A strange sense of calm washes over me.
I slump against the chair and feel the alluring pull of sleep coiling around my limbs.
But even as sleep overwhelms me, I can’t get rid of the image of those brown eyes staring lifelessly up at the sky.
47
EDEN
No one tellsme where I’m going. I am shuttled around like an unwanted child from relative to relative. My lips tighten into a scowl as the SUV heads south, and I know enough to know that they are not returning me to Nikolai. The SUV exits the Thruway and passes through a small town. Nothing is exciting or unusual to see—strip malls and fast food. I wonder if I will be kept in another warehouse like a cardboard box stacked on a shelf.
Sorokin’s estate received a lot of damage from Gunsyn’s ill-fated attack. Only a few men were able to penetrate the house itself, but they did serious damage to the exterior and, from what I understand, set fire to a few outer buildings. Sorokin didn’t experience the heavy losses that Gunsyn did, but Gunsyn got away.
In a sick way, he has emerged the winner in spite of a failed attack.
My brow furrows when I think about that coward escaping again. I wanted Sorokin to catch him. I would’ve demanded thatI be allowed to watch while he was tortured. My nails bite into my palm, and I breathe to release the stress.
