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Fucking idiot.
He really thinks I’m a helpless princess.
I drive one knee into his groin, and just before he collapses on top of me, screaming like a little bitch, I shove him backward. He flies against one of the posters, his head slamming into the wood.
I crawl toward him. “You wanted to play, right, Denis? With me?”
His face is pinched with pain, bright spots of red bleeding into his cheeks. His breaths are ragged. I hover over him with a smile, then reach behind me and grab the knife. I pop open the blade and hold it in front of his face.
“Fuck you, Denis. I hope you burn in hell with the rest of those assholes. And rest assured, Branko will be joining you soon.”
With a resounding yell, I jam the blade into his neck and pull it out. I jump back before the sea of red spurts from his sliced jugular. His hands fly up to the wound and he tumbles off the bed, crashing to the floor. I stand over and watch him writhe on the floor, gurgling as he chokes to death on his own blood.
A pool forms around him. I tiptoe around it, careful not to bring any evidence along with me. Once I’m out of range, I sink to my knees, clutching the sides of my head. Hot tears sting my eyes.
This could have been my life.
That sick bastard could have actually become my father-in-law.
The thought of him even remotely close to me makes me gag.
But more than that, the reality that I may have gotten everything about this mission against Branko completely wrong makes me sick with anger and disgust.
There may be more to this puzzle than I knew, but one thing still stands.
Branko Ivanova is an evil son of a bitch who needs to die.
No matter what stories or half-truths I’ve been fed over the past years, he still owns my family if Denis’s claims are true.
I grab Denis’s phone with my shaking hand and hold it up to his face. Thank God, it opens to his home screen. My shoulders quake, my chest constricted by the sob threatening to escape. Through the tears, I stab the icon for text messages and scan the incoming texts.
It has to be here somewhere. The location of whatever this “event” is. Branko isn’t coming for me. I need to go to him. And I’m so close, the screen practically singes my fingertips.
Then with a startled gasp, I jerk my head up toward the door. The brass knob twists.
Shit.
Someone is here.
I stare down at Denis’s knife-torn body, then jump to my feet. The blade hangs from my hand.
The door creaks open.
My heart stutters to a stop.
Words catch in my throat, tangled with a gaggle of tears that I refuse to let slip from my eyes.
His gravelly voice makes my body quiver and hum as he moves toward me with a feral look in his eyes.
“You’ve been a bad girl, Valentina. A very bad girl. And you need to be punished.”
Chapter31
Quinn
Val’s jaw smashes against the floor when she sees me, right next to the bloody dude next to her. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Despite the fact that we’re on seriously borrowed time and I have an extremely pissed-off “escort” next to me who wants to be paid big for what she just did, I can’t help but gape at Val in that getup.
