Page 103 of Mission Shift

A dry chuckle slithered into my ear.

“Ah, Daria,” Malinov murmured, amused. “You didn’t think I’d trust you, did you?”

The doctor stepped up next to me and raised a gloved hand, wiping down the back of my upper arm, just above the triceps, with alcohol. The injector’s needle punched deep. This was followed by a click and a cold burst under my skin. The placement was deliberate. It was hidden from immediate sight, nestled in the muscle, where removal would be difficult without precision.

The bastard had implanted something in me!

After the doctor dabbed at the minor wound with a cotton pad, he stepped back and packed his kit without saying a word. He didn’t need to speak. His job was done.

Malinov stalked forward and trailed his fingers down my spine, tracing the rigid tension in my muscles. “You may be tough, my dear, but even the strongest bodies are nothing against the right poison.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and grabbed me between the legs, pressing his obese body into me as his breath soured the air beside my ear.

“The MediVex subdermal delivery device is a beautiful little thing, isn’t it?” He squeezed me tighter to him. “A simple tap on my phone, and within ten seconds, a neurotoxin twice as potent as tetrodotoxin floods your bloodstream. Your diaphragm paralyzes first, locking your lungs. Then your heart follows. A painless death? No, no, my dear. You’ll remain conscious the entire time, feeling every second as your body betrays you.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing my breathing to remain steady.

He chuckled, gliding his hand up my chest to my throat. There, his long fingers wrapped around me.

I refused to react.

“Removal?” His grip tightened beneath my jaw until he was just shy of cutting off air. “Impossible. Two microbarbs are anchored into the tissue, locking it in place. Any attempt to rip it out?” He laughed, low and smug. “The compression sensor detects tampering, triggering an automatic release. Just a nick. Just a misstep. And then—”

He snapped his fingers beside my ear.

I stared ahead, unflinching.

His laughter crawled against my skin. “This guarantees you will obey me, because now, my beautiful little warrior, I own you.”

The burning rage in my blood made it impossible to stay still, and I could barely mask my disgust when his hard dick pressed against my ass.

Malinov’s head jerked forward. His teeth sank into the back of my neck. Just as quickly, he was gone, leaving behind a sting. “A little love bite,” he said.

“Lovely,” he purred, dragging his tongue over the spot where his teeth had been. “You were made to be worshipped, weren’t you?”

He slid his hand down my arm, tracing the curve of my waist, then moved it along the length of my thigh where the dress slit exposed skin.

The fabric of my dress lifted as his palm skimmed the bare skin of my ass.

He let out a dark hum of approval. “Mmm. Flawless.”

His fingers moved across and then lower down my other thigh.

They stopped.

Followed by a slow, measuredtsk tsk tsk.

Malinov’s fingers brushed against the strap of my combat knife.

Anothertsk.

“Oh, Daria,” he murmured, amusement curling around every syllable. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it?”

The room filled with laughter.

Malinov unhooked the strap and then sheathed the knife with ease. He held up the blade for his men to see. “You are a strong-willed little thing,” he mused, spinning the knife between his fingers. “Like a wild stallion, bucking and fighting against the reins.”

He pressed the blade under my chin.

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