“Live with the guilt,” she spits out. “I don’t absolve you.”

“You were not to go on sale,” Vasily says. “You were to sit in a safe house until Daniel could come for you, but…” he pauses, “something went wrong. Someone I trusted betrayed me.”

This is too much for Regan to hear. She collapses onto the sofa next to me.

Twenty

Regan

I’VE GONE FROM PURE HAPPINESS to pure misery all over again. Daniel—wonderful, amazing Daniel, who I’ve fallen hard for, my savior from the brothel—is working with one of the men who sold me.

Daniel says to trust him. I do. But it’s hard. Every time I see the new man, I see my apartment and remember being tied up and duct-taped so I can’t scream. I see Yury’s face as he grunts and sweats over me.

But Daniel killed Yury. At least there’s that.

And now this one is backtracking.

I look at the big blond man’s face. He’s waiting, still kneeling on the floor and staring straight ahead. It’s like he expects me to change my mind and say oh yes, actually, I do feel like beating you. Like he expects me to pick up the belt and go to town on him suddenly.

Like he expects me to sink to their level.

I won’t.

“So I wasn’t supposed to go on sale?” My voice is dull, even to my own ears. “That’s a big fucking mistake to happen, don’t you think?”

Daniel’s hand brushes my cheek. “You okay?”

Instinct tells me to push him away, to protect myself, but for the first time in a long time, I ignore it and lean into his touch. If I can’t trust Daniel, I have nothing. “I’m okay.”

“You must have restitution,” the blond man says, interrupting us.

I look over at him, and he hasn’t moved. His face—harder and somehow crueler than Daniel’s ever could be—is impassive. He’s still waiting.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“I am Vasily Petrovich of the Petrovich Bratva,” he rattles off. His voice is one of the deepest I have ever heard, his accent slight but familiar—and hated.

“Well, Vasily . . .” I think for a moment. I look over at Daniel, and he looks as uncomfortable as me at Vasily’s display. “I forgive you.”

The big Russian stiffens. “You cannot forgive me without recompense.”

“Nope,” I say, denying him what he wants. “I forgive you. Let’s move on.” I don’t mean it, of course, but I know that it’ll be a bigger mindfuck to him than me taking the belt and whipping him. I’m guessing pain makes more sense to him than mercy, but it’s not mercy I’m offering, not really. I’m dicking with his mind. I don’t even feel guilty about it.

Vasily doesn’t move.

I get up from my seat and stand in front of the big, frightening Russian who is still kneeling on the ground, waiting for a beating that’s never going to arrive. Instead, I stick my hand into his face. “Shake on it? We can start fresh from here.”

He recoils from my hand, which surprises me.

Daniel moves forward then, tugging me away. Maybe he’s guessed my game and doesn’t approve. I don’t blame him—it’s a bit like teasing a wounded bear. “Vasily’s not a handshaker,” he says to me. “Doesn’t like to be touched.”

“Oh.” Oh, the ammunition this gives me. “All right,” I say sweetly. I won’t forget this little nugget of information.

Daniel moves to the far side of the bed and picks up his gun, checking the clip and beginning to arm himself all over again. He casts a quick glance at Vasily, who hasn’t moved, and exasperation crosses his face.

“Get up, man,” he tells Vasily. “You’re weirding me the fuck out. Regan doesn’t want to beat you.”

Vasily looks rather disgruntled, which makes me happy. Slowly, he gets to his feet and returns to his full height. Daniel is tall, but this man is a giant. I’d forgotten he was so big and scary. And he wanted me to whip him? Strange man. I edge a little closer to Daniel, heading for my own gun, but Daniel pulls it out of my reach before I can grab it. He only raises an eyebrow at me, as if asking who I intend to shoot.

I roll my eyes and drag on his arm so I can pull the gun from his hands. “I’m not going to shoot anymore,” I mutter, making sure the safety is on before I stuff it into my belt. The silencer attached to the barrel feels like it’s sticking into my hip, but I don’t care.

Vasily looks over at me one more time and then picks up his belt. He considers it then slowly begins to thread it through his pant loops.

“Fuckin’ freak,” Daniel says to him, but his voice is easy, almost affectionate. “Put your damn shirt on, and tell me how you found us.”

“I put a tail on you once I found out you did not dump the girl at the embassy,” Vasily says. As he pulls it through the loops, his shoulders twist, and I realize what I should have realized all along—Vasily’s back is one massive length of scars.

Mine would not be the first beating, and—judging by his attitude—it wouldn’t be the last. Okay then.

“A tail? Thanks a fucking lot for all the trust.”

“I trust no one right now,” Vasily says in thickly accented English. “My own Bratva is rotten from the inside. The best hit man I know has defected to go live in the states with a woman. I had my uncle murdered because he could not be trusted. Nyet, comrade, I do not trust anyone at the moment.”

Daniel snorts and swaps a clip out on one of his guns. “Figures. You had to show up now, though?” He sounds disgruntled. “Regan and I were busy.”

“That is obvious,” Vasily says in that cold, deep voice. Then he barks something in Russian that I don’t understand.

“Fuck off,” Daniel says, and he tenses under my arms. “And speak in English. It’s damn rude.”

Vasily’s eyes are cold. His gaze flicks over me, then dismisses me as if I am nothing and returns to Daniel. “You were supposed to send her back to Nick.”

“I didn’t.”

“My plans do not involve dragging along a woman.”

“Change them.”

Vasily’s glare is so ominous that it makes me anxious.

“You would put her in danger simply because you wish an easy fuck, comrade?”

Now that’s hitting below the belt. Daniel’s practically vibrating with tension, and I am guessing that Vasily’s deliberately being a jackass to try and get his way. Or he’s really that much of a jackass. Either way, it’s a sore spot with Daniel. I wait for him to point out that I wouldn’t go to the embassy on my own, to place the blame on me.

“She stays, so figure something out.” And he sits down on the edge of the bed and drags me against him.

I lean in and press my breasts to the side of Daniel’s face as I cling to him, feeling smug and powerful and not a little bit turned on. He’s on my side. He could sell me out to Vasily, who he apparently knows and has worked with for a while, but he’s protecting my secrets.

And that makes me want to throw him down and fuck him all over again. Funny how someone loyal who protects me is such an aphrodisiac.

Vasily is watching me with such an expression of distaste that I suddenly feel dirty again. What, does he think I’m not good enough for Daniel anymore? Because I’m a dirty whore?

I wait for him to say something, but he only pulls an undershirt over his head. Enormous muscles flex as he does so. Then he takes his dress shirt off of the bed and begins to button it with slow, careful fingers.

“What is so important that this couldn’t wait a few more hours?” Daniel wants to know.

“I asked someone to come to Rio and get Hudson’s hacker. He says to me, ‘Yes, I will get hacker and do favor for Nick.’ Now, I see Nick’s favor has been done and my hacker is nowhere to be found.” Vasily’s face looks like stone. “And you wonder why I do not trust.”

“Fuck off, man. I was getting to it. We’ve sort of been busy for the last few days getting our asses shot at. There’s more going on with Regan than we planned for. She’s got some shitbag hot on her trail, and someone killed my snitch right in front of me. We’re doing all we can to keep our asses alive.”


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