“I hear you, sobrat. But I have no intention of having her be part of our world. Like I’ve said before, she’s nothing more than a means to an end.”
Demyan holds his hand up to his earpiece as new intel comes in. “He’s almost here.”
“Got it,” I nod, putting on my own earpiece. “Disappear, all of you.”
My men leave immediately. Demyan is the last one to go. “We’ll survey the perimeter, make sure they can’t close in on us.”
I nod. “No one gets near that jeep, understood? I’m not done with her yet.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, “that’s what I’m worried about.” Then he disappears through the back door.
Half a minute later, I hear an engine stop right outside.
Showtime.
Olivia’s brother walks in with a menacing swagger that makes an impression, even if it doesn’t wholly impress. The wound I left on his forehead has now turned into a faint scar.
“Robert,” I say, greeting him like an old friend. “Nice of you to join me.”
“You’re early,” he mutters with a scowl.
“As are you.”
“Where is my sister?”
“Safe,” I tell him. “For now.”
“I want to speak to her.”
“If you play your cards right, I’ll do you one better: I’ll let you see her.”
He moves into the room, but stops several feet in front of me. I can tell he has a gun on him. Which is fine. I’ve got two on me.
But even if I wasn’t armed, I’ve won bigger battles with a lot less.
“Have you hurt her?”
“Define ‘hurt.’”
His fists tighten at his sides. “If you’ve laid one hand on her, I’m going to—”
“You’re going to do what? You’re the whole reason she’s with me in the first place.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You abducted her.”
“Because you refused to see sense. And according to my sources, that’s still very much the case.”
He tenses. “I did what you asked. I dropped the case. No one at the FBI is investigating your Bratva anymore.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Is that right?”
He raises his arms. “I’m here alone, aren’t I? I wouldn’t do that unless I’d done what you asked. I just want my sister back.”
“You’re like your sister,” I scoff. “Neither one of you knows how to lie. You still believe I killed your woman.”
“My fiancée,” he spits. “And I don’t think you killed her, as a matter of fact. I believe you still have her held captive.”
I exhale wearily. “Tell me why I would go to all that trouble.”
“I don’t know what sick plans you have in the works,” he continues. “But you did take my sister, so—”
“Because you offended me.”
“And maybe some family member of Isabella’s offended you, too,” he counters.
“Not many people are stupid enough to offend me. You’re the rare exception.”
The mistrust and loathing are etched into every line of his face. It makes playing this game all the more entertaining.
Trouble is, he’s too far gone to be easily intimidated. I’m starting to realize that my backup plan isn’t a backup at all.
It’s the only option I have left.
18
OLIVIA
I bang on the windows until my hands are red and throbbing. But the men standing guard around my jeep are completely unmoved by my pleas. When I yell that I’ll bribe them to set me free, I get a big, fat group laugh. Otherwise, nothing.
Assholes, the lot of them.
The back windows of the jeep are tinted, so I see everything through a dark sheen. But I do notice my brother drive up. I’m too far away and too well-hidden for him to notice, but I scream his name all the same.
All I can do is sit and wait.
That is, until the side door flies open and I find myself staring at the sour-faced righthand that Aleks seems to rely on.
“You,” I hiss.
Demyan smiles sympathetically. “You’ve got some lungs on you.”
I move towards the door, but he throws his arm out and forces me to a stop. “Hold on. I just opened the door to give you a breather. We haven’t been called yet.”
“Do you always wait until you’re called?” I ask.
“Where Aleks is concerned, yeah. Do I look stupid to you?”
“My brother is in there.”
“I’m aware.”
“He came alone,” I point out. “Just like he said he would.”
“Sure thing, princess.”
“Fuck you. Don’t call me that.”
He just laughs. “Huh, would ya look at that? The princess swears. It’s actually kinda hot.”
Compared to Aleks, this man is a wisp in the wind. He’s my height, give or take an inch or two, and far too skinny.
But there’s something intimidating about him all the same, and it’s got nothing to do with the tattoos that cover both his arms and most of his neck.
Maybe it’s that dark calculation in his blue eyes. Or the way they seem too light—eerily light—compared to his raven-black hair.
“I have to see my brother.”
“You will see him when Aleks says you will.”
“Jesus!” I cry in frustration. “Does he have all your balls in a vise?”
Demyan chuckles. “Pretty much. It comes with the title.”
I study him curiously. “And you’re okay with that? Doing his bidding like some trained dog?”
He turns those scary blue eyes on me. “You trying to manipulate me, honey?”
“Depends. Is it working?”
He laughs under his breath. “Not even a little bit. Manipulation never works on the confident.”
“Who taught you that?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“Who do you think?”
I roll my eyes even harder, then turn towards where my brother’s car is parked in front of the building.
I remember when he bought that car. He was twenty and he paid for it entirely with his own money. It’s a piece of shit now, but I know he’s going to keep driving it until it breaks down completely and nothing on earth will revive it.
I asked him once why he still hung onto it when the cost to maintain it was more expensive than buying something new.
“It was the first thing I ever did all on my own,” he told me.
Whenever he came home to visit for a few days, he and Dad would spend most of the weekend in the garage tinkering around with it. That’s probably another reason Rob has kept it so long past its expiration date. There are memories of our father baked into the metal.
Demyan raises his hand to his ear, and I realize he’s wearing a barely visible earpiece. He listens for a moment and nods. “On it.”
He turns to me. “We’re up. Let’s—”
“Coming.” I jump out before Demyan can even finish the command—and immediately fall flat on the ground with a yelp.
Demyan snorts as he gazes down at me. “That was graceful.”
“Shut up,” I snap. “My legs are asleep.”
He offers me a hand, but I bat it away and get to my feet on my own. My thighs are on pins and needles, but I shake them out to get the blood flowing again.