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“Mad,” I repeat, then laugh savagely. “Mad, Mila? No, it’s more than that, my Cyber Siren.”
That gets a small, reluctant smile from her that makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery. “That one was pretty good,” she admits.
I sit on the bed beside her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She’s shivering slightly as if the events are only now catching up with her. “Just walk me through it, step by step.”
Mila does precisely that. She tells me about the man shoving her into the room and putting his hand across her mouth. Suddenly, her earlier awkwardness makes sense, as she went from being elated and proud to wanting nothing to do with me.
“He was in the en suite. He said … he said…” She swallows a sob. “He’d kill us both.”
My blood turns to ice. I stand up, clenching my fists.
“This isn’t your fault,” I tell her.
“He was going to hurt Lia because of me.”
“What happened after? At the second house?”
She keeps talking and then gets to the part where she stands in front of Lia, stopping Yevgeny from shooting her.
“You saved her life,” I tell Mila.
“Without me, it wouldn’t have needed saving.”
“You did the right thing. Don’t beat yourself up about this. Don’t you dare!” I’m the one trembling now, thinking of that wormwith his hand over my Mila’s mouth and all the sick ways this could’ve gone wrong.
“Where are you going?” she asks, touching my arm when I stand up.
I want to stay here. I want to be with Mila all night and all day, but I can’t stop thinking about what that dirtbag did. “There’s work to do.”
She swallows. “What kind of work?”
“Bratva work,” I say, turning away.
“Wait.”
At the door, I stop. She walks over to me quickly, throwing her arms around my shoulders and looking up at me with emotion. “Thank you for not hating me.”
“I could never hate you,” I say, cupping her cheek.
She’s the one who initiates the kiss, standing on her tiptoes and pushing herself against it. I hold on to her tightly. For the first time since we’ve touched, I don’t want to devour her orjustdevour her, anyway. Emotion burns through me as I clutch her tightly, kissing the top of her head, letting her scent move through me.
“Nobody’s ever going to hurt you again,” I tell her. “You and me, Mila … One day, we’ll be someplace safe just for us.”
“With Drake?” she asks.
“Your brother will be there, too. We’ll go …” I hesitate.
“I don’t care where it is,” she cuts in. “I don’t care what we’re doing as long as we’re together and safe.”
I kiss her one last time, then force myself to leave. Heading outside, I walk over to the basketball court and press the switch at the very base of the hoop. Mechanical whirs begin as a portion of the court in the corner starts to sink into the concrete. It’s a metal elevator painted to look like a piece of the court.
Riding the platform down, I find Yevgeny cuffed to the table in the small interrogation room, complete with one-way glass. Standing in the dark observation room, I watch as he tugs on the cuffs, grunting, teeth gritted, sweat sliding down his face.
He looks scared. He should be. I’ve got no pity for the bastard. Only hate. Only rage.
I press the intercom button. When I speak, Yevgeny flinches. “You assaulted Mila. You terrified her. You bullied her and tried to use her. I’m going to give you one chance to tell me everything. When did you start working for the Petrovs? How long have you been planning this? Are there other loyal men?”
The man spits on the floor. “Don’t pretend to be something you’re not, Mikhail.”
