Page 59 of Hers to Command

We both know what Anya is capable of. She is impulsive, reckless, and stubborn as hell. After all, Toni was there when she first walked into my office. But she’s also brave. Too brave for her own good.

The Drewry Avenue club is like a seedy monument to men like Dmitri. It reeks of desperation and cheap sex. No damn surprise that Anya wants to class things up. I wouldn’t want to be associated with this filth, either.

I lean forward, my eyes narrowing as movement catches my attention near the side of the building. A man is sprawled on the ground, his boots barely visible, sticking out behind a garbage container.

“Park over there,” I tell Toni, pointing.

When Toni follows my directions, parking in the darkest corner of the lot, I’m able to see the guy fully. His limbs are bound, and even from here, I can see the duct tape over his mouth.

“Shit,” Toni mutters, following my gaze. He sounds more impressed than shocked, though. “Wanna bet that’s one of Dmitri’s guys. What the hell is she doing?”

My gut churns, but I force my voice to stay calm. The fucked up part in me is cheering Anya on. She’s actually doing it. It’s making my dick perk up in admiration, even as anxiety has my pulse racing. “She’s making a point.”

Toni kills the engine, and I open the door, stepping out into the cold night air. I motion for Toni to follow as I move toward the edge of the building. The emergency exit is slightly ajar, held open by a small brick wedged under the door, a faint line of light spilling out onto the pavement. Beyond it, through the cracked door, I can see them.

Anya stands just inside the room, her gun leveled at Dmitri, her back exposed. Stupid woman. Her posture is rigid, her shoulders squared, and I can see the tension in every line of her body. Dmitri is standing in front of a bed, his pants haphazardly pulled up and looking like he’s about to jump and strangle her.

“Holy shit,” Toni breathes, his voice low as he takes in the scene. “She’s going to—”

“She’s not going to do anything,” I say sharply, though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, him or myself.

Damn it, Anya.

She has me backed into a corner, and I need to make a decision.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Anya

My hand is gripping my gun, finger itching on the trigger, when I hear Riccardo’s voice.

“Take a deep breath and think about this, Anya,” he cautions, as I sense him stepping up behind me. “You pull that trigger, and you’ll have his entire family after you.”

I should have had backup. Someone to guard my back. But I didn’t want to ask any of the men who still want me to prove myself. It would have felt like a confirmation of their doubt. It would have been like proving that I couldn’t handle things on my own, the way my brother could have done had he been the one taking over.

I narrow my eyes, still staring at Dmitri. “He’s nothing without his father,” I spit, lifting my gun slightly. “And they don’t need to find out about me being involved.”

Only, there is no ambulance to cover the noise of me shooting now. My plan was to shoot Dmitri right away. But I also expected him to be armed. Part of me figured I’d get shot in the process. It never occurred to me that I’d be shooting an unarmed guy.

So I hesitated.

“True, they don’t need to find out that you’re the one who pulled the trigger,” Riccardo says from behind me. “He’s a piece of shit and wouldn’t be here if his father wasn’t a big shot in Russia.” He inches closer, pressing his chest against my back. “But if you do this now, his father will be a problem, anyway.”

Dmitri steps forward, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “What’s the problem, Anya? Don’t have the guts to pull the trigger?” he taunts.

I grit my teeth, glaring at him, but Riccardo stays outwardly calm. “He’s nothing,” he says, just loud enough for Dmitri to hear. “But I’m here to back you up. Whatever you decide. I trust you have a plan?”

My gun lowers, as I half turn my head to look at Riccardo.

Dmitri chuckles, stepping back, the grin on his face infuriatingly confident. “Smart choice,” he sneers, backing away slowly in Katja’s direction.

I snap my attention back to the asshole, gun raised again, aiming at Dmitri’s head. He freezes.

“You’re here to back me up?” I ask Riccardo.

Riccardo Angelo isn’t a backup kind of guy. He’s the richest fucking man in the city and he’s head of his own syndicate, which is arguably the most powerful one in the city, though Gianna Bruno might argue the point. He’s also domineering and controlling. So what the fuck does he mean by backing me up?

“That means I called Sergei trying to find you and when I realized you weren’t with him, I figured you changed your mind about going after this asshole. So I came to provide back-up in case you want it.”

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