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“The woman, sir…” he begins haltingly. “She… she tried to break in.”
Gritting my teeth, I drop my pen and snap the file folder in front of me closed. “Who the fuck is this woman and why does she want in my house so badly?”
Samuil pokes the door jamb with one booted toe. “She claims to be Ms. June’s sister, sir.”
Sister.Fuck me. That’s one of the last people on the planet I am interested in talking to right now, for about a thousand different reasons, not least of which is the fact that she’s one of the first people on the planet that Ravil would try to use to get to me.
I get to my feet slowly. I can feel a real motherfucker of a headache coming on.
“We have her confined to the inner courtyard,” Samuil explains, “but she’s struggling. Permission to use force?”
How easy would it be to say yes and turn a blind eye to this. I’ve got enough problems as it is.
“No,” I sigh. “I’ll speak with her.”
The only sign of Samuil’s surprise is a slow blink. Then he nods and holds open the door. “I’ll escort you to her location, sir.”
When we enter the inner courtyard, I find the woman contained by two more of my household guards. Nikifor has a scratch on his left cheek, fresh and weeping blood.
“Did she get you, Nikifor?” I ask in amusement.
“Only the one time, boss,” he says gruffly. “She didn’t manage a second swipe.”
I turn my attention to the woman between Nikifor and Meric. Hands folded behind my back, I pace in front of her. “And who might you be?”
A curtain of dark hair drapes over her face, mussed from her struggle with my men. She tosses it back with a flick of her head and focuses her glare on me.
There isn’t much June in her posture or her facial structure. But her eyes—there’s some of June’s spice in there.
“Oh, fuck you,” she spits. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. Men like you always do your research.”
I continue pacing like a caged tiger. “Do you have a lot of experience with men like me?”
She bristles as if she’s offended, but it’s an unconvincing acting job. My suspicions deepen.
“More than most,” she says vaguely.
“Interesting.”
“You wanna know what I find ‘interesting’?” she offers. “I find it ‘interesting’ that you’ve had a young woman locked up in this pretentious-ass mansion for weeks and no one’s said a word about it.”
“I’m not in the habit of locking up young women.”
“Then why haven’t I seen my sister in over two weeks?”
“Probably because you haven’t made the effort to stay in touch. That’s really more of a you problem than a me problem.”
Her eyes are tight slits, her lips drawn even tighter. She’s feisty, this one. A mare who needs breaking.
But I have my hands full already—and even if I didn’t, I’m not interested.
“I want to see my sister,” she declares.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Juuune!” she screams without warning. “June! June!”
Sighing, I gesture to Samuil over my shoulder. He comes up from behind me with a thick leather gag in hand. The woman sees it while she’s sucking in air to start screaming again. Her eyes bulge out of her head and she changes course at the last minute. She goes from thrashing and bucking and wailing to limp and pitiful in the blink of an eye.
