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In the fraction of a second that he hesitates, I push the gun harder against his head. “I’d rather you be alive for what I need,” I hiss, “but I’ll blow your brains out right now if I have to. Iwill. Drop the fucking knife!”
I feel his hand open. I feel the hilt of it hit my bare toes, and I push him back a little, the gun still held to his head as I turn so that I’m no longer pinned between him and the nightstand. “You’re not going to kill me,” I tell him evenly. “You’re going to take me to Viktor Andreyev. And thenIwill decide how the conversation goes from there.”
Mikhail laughs, his ice blue eyes furious as they rake over me. “Oh?” he taunts. “And why the fuck would I do anything you say? I don’t believe you’ll shoot me.”
“Maybe not.” I keep my voice as even as I can, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepare to tell him the secret I’ve been holding onto, the thing I’ve been terrified of–and now the only card I have left to play.
I look at the man standing in front of me, his gun in my hand, and I know it’s time to make one final bid for freedom.
“You’ll do as I say,” I tell him slowly, “Whether I’m willing to shoot you or not. And I’ll tell you why.”
My finger curls around the trigger, a definitive threat.
“You won’t hurt me again. Because I’m pregnant.”
