Page 114 of Velvet Chains
It’s just your imagination. You’re tired and hormonal and missing Victor. That’s all.
But as I turn around, my eyes widen in shock. There, standing in the doorway, is Dimitry.
He looks wild, his eyes bloodshot and his hair standing on end. His clothes are rumpled and stained, and there’s a manic energy radiating from him that makes my skin crawl.
“Dimitry?” I ask cautiously, setting down the knife. “What are you doing here?
He takes a step forward, and I instinctively freeze.
“You need to come with me,” Dimitry says, his voice hoarse and urgent. “Right now, Laura. We don’t have much time.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand, my fingers closing around the handle of the knife I just set down. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You don’t understand, Laura,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “They’ve got Eli, and if I don’t—”
“They? Who’s ‘they’?” I interrupt, my voice rising slightly as fear and confusion swirl inside me.
Who’s got Eli?
Chills race down my spine as I grasp the gravity of his words.
What the fuck is goingon?
Before Dimitry can answer, a large shadow fills the doorway behind him. I squint, trying to make out the features of the newcomer, but all I can see is a hulking figure dressed in black, a jagged scar cutting across his face.
“Davay, suka,” the man growls in a thick Russian accent, his voice low and menacing. “We don’t have all night.”
I swallow hard, my mouth going dry with fear. I’ve never seen this man before, but everything about him screams danger.
Dimitry steps closer, his eyes wide with urgency. “I can’t explain everything now, but we need to go. Now.”
Refusing to move, I stand my ground, clutching the kitchen knife tightly in my hand. It’s silly, maybe, but it’s the only weapon within reach. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
Slowly, keeping my eyes on the intruders, “I’m not going anywhere with you,” I say again, my voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave. Now.”
The scarred man chuckles darkly, taking a step into the kitchen. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he leers, his eyes raking over my body in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I can see why Morozov likes you.”
Dimitry moves toward me, his hands raised in a conciliatory gesture. “Laura, please,” he begs. “Just come quietly. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”
“Fuck you,” I spit, my fear giving way to anger. Moving backward, I keep the kitchen knife pointed toward them, my knuckles white with the force of my grip.
The scarred man’s eyes flick to the small knife in my hand, and he barks out a harsh laugh. “What are you going to do with that, princess?” he sneers. “Poke us to death?”
I glare at him, refusing to be cowed. “I’ll aim for the eyes,” I retort, my voice steadier than I feel. “Or maybe somewhere a little lower. I hear that hurts like a bitch.”
His smirk fades slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his ruined face. He takes another step toward me, his bulk menacing in the cramped space of the kitchen.
“Enough of this bullshit,” he growls. “Grab her. We’re wasting time.”
Dimitry hesitates, his gaze darting between me and his accomplice. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the reluctance warring with desperation.
“Dimitry, please,” I try again, my voice softening. “Don’t do this. We’re family now. Victor will help you, whatever trouble you’re in. Just let me call him.”
The man’s grin falters slightly, his eyes darting to Dimitry. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he grumbles.
Dimitry ignores him, his gaze locked on mine. “Laura, listen to me,” he pleads. “If you come with us now, quietly, no one has to get hurt. We’ll let you go as soon as we have what we need from Victor.”
I keep backing up, my eyes darting toward the exit.
