Page 36 of Liberated By Sin

I was in Ivan Tarasov’s vehicle and in his lap, within thirty minutes of our private. Santino would lose his shit when he found out I’d left the club with the very client he’d forbid me to see, but my boss was at the bottom of my list of worries. And so, I tucked all thoughts of him into a safe place, focusing my attention on the sack of meat in front of me.

“I’m going to take good care of you,malyshka.”

“I’m sure you will.”

His fingers combed through my hair, the other hand snaking up the back of my neck. It took over a year after my escape to lose the tremors and impending panic attack that would ensue at even the slightest hint of a sexually charged touch. I’d learned to temper my fear, internalize and lock it up, then spit it back out as raw and unfettered rage.

“You are what I call an exotic beauty. Where are you from?”

“Miami.”

An unamused chuckle bubbled up his throat, and he tightened his grip a little more than I was comfortable with. “You know what I mean.”

It was easy to deduce that Ivan was the type of man who got off on being in charge and loathed disrespect. One moment, he spoke in a way meant to lull me into a state of complacency, where I unquestioningly handed over my trust as easily as my body. The next, he demanded it through aggression.

Leaning into his ear, I murmured, “Brasil.”

“Are all the women there as gorgeous as you?”

His hand wound around my neck as the car came to a stop inside a mostly empty parking garage. Cambri had said he lived on a gated property. But apparently, he was giving me the penthouse special—only I had no interest in stepping foot out of this car until he was no longer breathing.

“Are you asking me about other women while I’m grinding my pussy in your lap?”

He grazed his mouth up the length of my neck.

“You may be in my lap,malysh, but you’re just another whore for me to do as I please.”

Just. Another. Whore.

And just like that, the facade of this night and his life had ended.

Closing my eyes, I reached for the pendant hanging between my breasts and unsheathed a short blade, driving it into the side of his neck. I met his stunned eyes and stuck him again, basking in the red squirting between his tightly clasped fingers.

“Cambri sends her regards.”

“Suka,” he gruffed as he slid a hand into his waistband.

I caught his wrist just as he grasped the handle of a gun.

“Can’t have you shooting me. The last thing I need is another scar.”

The small blade plunged into his side three times as I wrestled to keep his weapon out of play until he was fully incapacitated. He shovedme, but as I fell, I grabbed onto his bloodied collar, taking him with me and continuing my assault. The fucker seemed to have nine lives, and the more I stabbed him, the harder he fought.

When a single shot pierced the vehicle’s cabin, we froze, eyes locking for a fraction of a second until I found the perfect home for the sharpened steel in my hand. Ivan’s blue iris made the most satisfying squelching noise, followed quickly by his pathetic howls.

I wanted to revel in his suffering, but his driver would be tearing open the passenger door soon enough.

“Sit tight, friend. I’ll be right back.” Having lost all his fight, he gurgled a reply and stared aimlessly at the roof with his remaining eye.

The moment I pushed open the door, and just as I predicted, the bald driver exploded from the car and began firing. I managed to duck and roll behind the trunk.

“Shit.”

Screeching tires in the distance let me know there were more assholes incoming, so I took aim from beneath the car and shot at the man’s ankles, hitting him twice and putting a bullet through his face when he hit the pavement.

I jumped to my feet and climbed over Ivan’s twitching body as it hung halfway out of the door, his head twisted on the concrete in a puddle of blood.

That bastard had the nerve to still be alive.

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