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“You wanted to see Moscow. I granted your wish.”
The anchor in my stomach sunk even deeper, and my skin rose in gooseflesh. Trepidation and anxiety threatened to lurk.
I’d known we weren’t in LA but hadn’t expected to be almost twelve hours away from home. In Russia.Russia!
The urge to kick something returned, but I stayed planted on the spot because if Ididkick something, I might get thrown into a place with fewer windows and expensive-looking furniture.
“Welcome to Moscow.”
His words floated behind me, and I saw his smug expression through the blurry reflection on the window.
Deeply, I inhaled, filling my lungs with as much air as possible. The uncertainty of the situation was slowly killing me. If he’d kidnapped me and was willing to bring me all the way here to his town, then his plans for me had nothing to do with talking over breakfast or visiting the Kremlin.
My fingers went through my hair, and I propped my hands on my hips. Because if I didn’t, I certainlywouldpunch something.
Twisting around, I met cold green irises, not a sliver of emotion in them.
He was out of his hoodie situation and was back in his trademark attire—a crisp white dress shirt and a pair of designer pants.
The proximity between us made it more difficult to breathe. The hard lines of his jaw looked even harder when he stared down at me like I was nothing but a nuisance.
Anxiety reared its head, but I swallowed it down, shoving my intimidation below the surface.
Audaciously, I looked up, regardless of how far back my head had to tilt, owing to the ridiculous height difference between us.
I had to ask, “What do you plan on doing to me?”
Egor’s gaze darkened and dragged down from my eyes to my neck.
He raised his hand.
And I froze when the back of his fingers brushed my cheeks and curled around my neck, like a snake slowly ensnaring his victim. But there was no pressure.
He took a step closer and tilted his head to the side, silently assessing and interrogating me. “Take note:Iask the questions here. Where’s the evidence?”
His voice was as light as a cool evening breeze. I almost didn’t catch it, but I did and knew exactly what he was referring to. Feigning ignorance at this moment was not going to get me very far, but that didn’t warrant that I give an answer.
I stayed mute.
And he didn’t like that one bit.
His fingers curled tighter, and the pressure of his digits around my neck started to manifest.
“Allow me to rephrase,” his words tumbled in a dark, menacing growl. It took more than self-confidence to stand my ground. Fear rooted me to the spot. “What kind of evidence doyou have against me, and how did you get it? I want all the details. And I want themnow.”
My silence remained, and his grip tightened around my throat. My heartbeat accelerated. If I didn’t speak up, this man was going to kill me.
He’s going to kill me.
He seethed, hissing through clenched teeth, “You will not fucking make me repeat myself.”
His hand started to pulse around my neck, and I was on the tip of my toes now, with my hands on his, trying to pry them off, gasping for air.
I didn’t want to die.
“There is…” I choked, wheezed. “There is no evidence.”
“Don’t you dare fucking lie to me!” He shook me like he would a rag doll. “Where the fuck is it?”
