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I was aggravated and grabbed her face roughly and glared at her. “Now listen to me, you little bitch. Tell me where the envelope is. Where the fuck is it?”
“Fuck you!” she screamed in my face, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Even if I knew, you'd have to kill me before I told you anything.”
“Really?” I flashed a pretend smile, and she mirrored my action.
“Really,” she asserted.
I let go of her soft cheeks and leaned back in my chair. I knew she was lying; one look at her face showed that she knew exactly where the envelope was. But if she proved anything, it was that she was undeniably stubborn.
I knew what I had to do. It would take some time, but I intended to break her until she begged for mercy.
“Alexei?” I called out, the blonde princess was ping-ponging her gaze between me and my right-hand man.
“Yes, boss?”
“Leave us,” I ordered. “I need to teach this young woman a lesson.”
Chapter 5 - Grace
When Connor said the mafia was a brutal world, I knew he wasn’t joking—after all, I had just read a book about it. But I never realized the extent of its cruelty. I pretended to be brave in front of the terrifyingly handsome stranger, but deep down I was scared out of my mind. Worse still, no one knew where I was; neither my mother nor Vanessa.
The image of my father’s lifeless body flashed through my mind, and I exhaled nervously. I regretted replying to his text message and meeting him in the bar. If I had just ignored him, maybe none of these horrible things would have happened. I scanned the room, unobtrusively looking for an escape route.
Fuck!
It was pointless. There was only one window, high up in the room, and one exit, the door through which the strange man came in. I was stuck. I was stuck in a room with a man who looked like he could obliterate everything with a snap of his fingers.
Igor Varkov.
His name rang in my head, and it sounded as intimidating as the person sitting in front of me. There was so much depth in his blue eyes. To others, they looked empty and cold, as if he had a permanent steely gaze, but I saw beyond the surface. In his piercing eyes shone the pain of terrible experiences, but also deep sadness that could not be put into words, and the faint scars on his prominent jaw were proof that he had lived a rough life.
But what was important now was my life and how much of it was left to live. Regardless of what he had been through in his younger years, he was a cold-blooded killer, and it didn't matter how good-looking or fascinating he was; if I didn’t give him what he asked for, he would kill me.
After all, he had just killed a man over the same envelope, and while my father looked like he was willing to die to protect it, I was not. I had no desire to die.
This mafia shit was definitely not my rodeo. This was way more than I could handle. I sniffled and tried hard not to let the tears out. I’d be damned if I let this man see my weakness.
“You know, you really should let me go,” I started to say. “This whole torture thing is starting to get a bit boring; don’t you think?”
His eyebrows twitched and he scowled. “I think you misunderstood. Don’t you realize you’ve been kidnapped?”
“Of course, I know that. But in case you didn’t understand me earlier, let me clarify,” I said. “I don’t have the information you want. So why do you want me to stay here? Let me go, okay? I promise my lips will stay sealed. No one will find out about this.”
“It will do you good if you just shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “You talk too much.”
“And you're wasting too much time,” I faked a smile. “If I'm not useful to you, then let me go. It’s as simple as that.”
He crossed one arm in front of his chest and rubbed his jawline with the other as he slowly tapped his shoes on the concrete. Then he stopped abruptly and leaned forward. He was close enough for me to smell his musky, soapy scent.
“I just can’t figure you out,” his gaze ignites a slow burn deep inside me. “On the one hand, you act so boldly like you know what you're up against, and on the other, you offer yourself up to be killed for a cause you’d rather have nothing to do with. You're a confusing woman, Grace.”
I had to give it to him; he was fucking smart. But so was I.
“Deep down, you know you want to let me go,” I tried to be coy, but I could feel my cheeks turning hot. “You know you want to.”
He chuckled and leaned in even closer, his hot, fresh breath fanning my lips. “Deep down,” he growled, fixating my lips, “I want to undress you piece by piece if you keep up this fake warrior woman shit.”
I gulped.
