Adriana says nothing. Doesn’t challenge him. Doesn’t even roll her eyes in typicalherfashion. Her fingers curl around her coffee cup until her knuckles turn white.
My blood heats. “That’s really not necessary—”
“Jude.” Alexei’s voice is soft, deadly. “You’ll take her.”
His eyes flick over her again in a way that makes my skin crawl. Interest. Possessive. Evaluating. He doesn’t look at business partners like that.
Adriana finally meets my gaze, just for a second. And she looks...scared. Not of me. Not even of Alexei, exactly. More like she knows something she wishes she didn’t.
Nolan’s jaw ticks. Everything in me knots. This leash is going to strangle me to death all too soon.
I nod once. “Fine.”
Alexei smiles like he’s pleased. “Good boy.”
The words slide under my skin. Nolan says that to me, too. Do all powerful men refer to us as pets? Good boys and good girls?
As Adriana stands, smoothing her skirt with trembling fingers, I realize two things at once:
I’m being dragged deeper into hell.
And none of us are getting out clean. Perhaps not even alive.
Adriana falls into step beside me, her heels pounding against the pavement. She glances over, lowering her voice. “He scares me,” she admits.
I huff out a breath, not quite a laugh, as I send Emma a quick text to let her know I’m okay. She’s worrying about me too much. “Yeah. Join the club.”
Her eyes flick to my phone with curiosity.
“Micah,” I lie easily. My hood stays up as we move toward the club entrance, the fabric casting my face in shadow. Paparazzi have been circling for weeks, but Adriana’s been throwing them off with anonymous tips—Seattle, Vancouver, a studio in L.A. Anywhere but here for my“healing journey.”For now, that lie is holding. Thank fuck. But I still have my black balaclava in my back pocket for the actual confrontation.
Inside, the club is dim with a neon haze, low ceilings, and shadows thick enough that I could probably walk through without the hood. Doesn’t matter. I keep it up anyway. It feels like armor.
Adriana slips her arm through mine as we weave through the crowded floor. The contact stiffens every muscle in my body. Her perfume is like a fucking trigger for me. I grit my teeth and let her keep holding on. We cross to the back staircase. Each step creaks under my boots as we climb, the music fading.
At the top, a narrow hallway stretches out, washed in a sickly blue light that flickers like it’s about to die. I pull on my balaclava and double check that my gun is still in the waistband of my jeans.
“Should...should I have a mask, too?” she asks.
I roll my eyes. “It certainly shows that you never get your hands dirty.”
“I’m serious, Jude.”
Before we get any further, I stop and turn on her. “You’re not the one inflicting damage or pain. You just get to stand there. Lucky you.”
Before I give her a chance to respond, I’m moving.
She catches up to me, close enough that I catch the tremor in her fingers where they rest on my arm again. She’s scared. Good. She should be. We both should. Nolan getting involved with a Russian crime lord is about the dumbest fucking thing he could have done. I’m sure Adriana will feel that soon enough, too.
We get to a door at the end of the hall, and behind it, sits the poor bastard Alexei wants me to“remind”about his debt.
Adriana steps back as I reach for the handle. I don’t knock. I just fucking walk in. The owner is behind his desk, casually leaning back like it’s just another day for him. Middle-aged, expensive suit, thinning brown hair, a face tight from stress or too much plastic work. He glances up, and then his eyes widen.
My jaw tightens at the immediate confrontation. Adriana slips her arm from mine and stands near the wall. “Let’s keep this as simple as possible, because I don’t want to be here,” I say. “Alexei Morozov. You owe him money.”
He waves a dismissive hand, feigning a more casualarrogance that I know he doesn’t feel. “I’m aware of the debt. But sending one man and a pretty little thing to intimidate me? Psh. His men aremuchmore intimidating.”
Heat crawls up the back of my neck. He thinks I’m harmless. My eyes dart over to a photo of his wife and two kids on his desk. I step toward him, keeping my voice low. “I’ll kill your family. One by one. Don’t believe me? Fine. I’m not against proving that I should be taken fucking seriously.”