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What the fuck?
I stare at her as she shoves her plate away. “I’m done, Ollie. I can’t do this anymore. I need space. I feel like I’m suffocating here."
Oh, she does not. She will not fucking—she gets to her feet, and I stare at her, confused and a little suspicious.
"What are you talking about? This isn’t the time or place."
"I know! My brother isn’t here. You guys have already looked everywhere. Aleks has checked. He’s not here because Carlos is dead. I told you he was dead," she says, tossing her head.
What the fuck is she doing? I stare at her, my eyes narrowing.
Rolling her eyes, she continues. "If he actually was here, he wouldn’t be hiding like this. That isn’t his way. You know that. He’d just confront us."
She pushes away from the table. "You watching my every move is driving me crazy. You even wanted to go to the bathroom with me!"
"Renata," I growl, my hands clenching into fists.
"No, Ollie. I need to get out, to think, to breathe. I can’t stay here like this. I didn’t even want to marry you, you know that."
I don’t think so. My eyes narrow on her. "You’re not going anywhere. Not while your brother is still a threat."
She looks desperate and frustrated, and I half wonder if this is an act when she faces me, her eyes blazing. "You don’t own me, Ollie Romanov. I am not a prisoner, and I’m not going to sit around and let you control me like this." Her nostrils flare.
Jesus.
Has Renata been in league with Carlos the whole time?
She swears she was taken from us even though every recording we had made it look like she was the one who left on her own. Even her best friend thought she was a traitor.
Has she manipulated us?
Damn. If she’s acting, she’s a really good actress.
She strides toward the door, her heels clicking on the floor. Is she serious?
"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?"
"Out, Ollie. I can’t do this anymore. My brother is dead, and you’re delusional if you think that we’re going to sit around waiting for him to come. I won’t play these games anymore.”Her movements are quick and agitated as she heads for the door, grabbing the handle.
I reach her in two quick steps. "You’re not going anywhere without me."
"Is that the sum total of our life to you?” She yanks her arm free from my grip, her eyes flashing. "I told you, I’m done with this. If you don’t let me go, I will make you." Without warning, she reaches for the small canister in her bag.
I step back, startled. Holy shit. Did she ask for weapons so that she could arm herself againstme? Did I just fucking walk into a trap?
As Renata marches toward the door, her frustration obvious, something changes. I feel it in my gut. The air feels thicker, and my nerves are on edge. My instincts are ready to snap, and before I can say a word, the door swings open.
And there he is. Carlos Carrera, my archenemy, one of the few men Renata has ever loved, scrawny and mean. He stands in the doorway, his eyes darkening as he stares at her. “Step back, Romanov. One move, and she dies.” He shakes his head, a gun trained on Renata. “You didn’t listen to me, little sister."
How the hell did he get in here? He must’ve been hiding in plain sight. My mind races, trying to figure everything out. We’re by the porch, near the front—the only place we hadn’t checked—the ventilation system that runs through the walls, hidden behind grates and ducts.Goddamnit. He’s no stranger to evading detection. He must’ve found a way to block his biometric signature to make sure we didn’t pick up his presence here, and he’s slight, so it could’ve worked.
Fucking manipulator. It doesn’t matter how he did it—he could’ve scrambled signals, fed false data, or cloaked himself somehow. He came here for a reason.
Carlos’s gaze lingers on her like a predator sizing up prey before an attack. Something’s twisted in the way he looks at her, like she’s betrayed him, as if their family still claims some kind of ownership over her.
But he’s wrong. She owes him nothing.
He snarls at her while my mind races with plans to thwart him. To protect her.
