Page 30 of Marked By His Touch

His head tilts, his eyes widening. “Teach you—?” He murmurs the words as if contemplating a curious puzzle. He gives me a long, appraising look.

I force myself to meet his eyes, trying to project a confidence I don’t feel. “Teach me, woman-to-woman,” I say, my voice firming, “Nikolai says I need to learn how to please.”

“Oh—” He looks at me suspiciously but then nods, “Nadia, good at this,da. You go to her, you understand?”

"Da," I confirm, turning towards the direction Nadia had vanished. My back prickles with awareness of his gaze, a laser beam trained on my form.

Please don’t follow me. Please don’t follow me; I repeat it like a mantra.

I round a corner, letting out a shaky breath. The hallway is narrow, dimly lit, and smells like mulled wine. A few dimmed lightbulbs cast distorted shadows.

How the hell am I going to escape this place?

A shadow flickers at the end of the hallway. I duck behind a set of heavy velvet curtains separating the hallway from a room, my heart hammering. It’s like a scene from a bad movie, and I’m smack-dab in the middle of it. The room beyond the curtains is small. A single, unadorned bed sits in the middle of the room; its black silk matches the shadows of this place.

I duck behind it, my body tense, my muscles coiled. A flight of stairs leads up to a small alcove. Maybe there’s a better cover, up there? I charge up the stairs, my breath ragged, my hands trembling.Shit. Shit. Shit.

I hear voices, a hushed murmur, but I can’t make out the words. My body freezes, every sense alert. I try to focus on Zara’s moves, the uppercut, the solar plexus, the groin punch— but it’s all a blur.

The voices get louder. My breath catches in my throat.

Then, it hits me. The walls are thin, thinner than those in the “Doctor’s room.” Maybe it’s intentional, so the sounds of pleasure seep through, creating a constant hum of submission and dominance. The voices are coming from the room next door.

I run my hand along the wall, feeling for a crack, a way to peek through to make sure I’m right. My fingers brush against a rough edge, revealing a crack; I peer through.

The first thing I see is Nikolai. His presence is undeniable. He’s standing there, his dark gaze fixed on the scene before him. He looks like a wind is whipping up beneath his supposed calm exterior. Several men surround him, their faces a canvas of indifference.

What the hell is going on?

I hold my breath, trying to make sense of everything, ensuring I stay hidden.

There’s someone standing in front of Nikolai, but his face is hidden behind a hulking, bald man. A voice down there, though muffled, makes me shiver. It’s familiar, a voice that echoes in the darkest corners of my memory.

The bald man steps aside, and my view is clear.

It’s Monroe, Harvey’s ex-partner. The same Monroe that tried to kill Alexander and me at St. Judes’s hospital. His face is battered and bloody. The men around him stand like silent sentinels.

“Why you try to trick me,durak?” Nikolai says, his chest expanding with a wolf’s breath. He’s inches from Monroe’s face, his eyes gleaming.

“I swear, I wasn’t—” Monroe says, his voice strained.

Nikolai rips open Monroe’s shirt, revealing wires snaking beneath his skin. “You double cross me,da?”

“No, no, no, this isn’t—this is a—”

“Chto?A toy?” Nikolai throws back his head, his laughter cynical, chilling. “Who are you spying for this time? Police? The Raven?”

He grabs Monroe’s face, his fingers digging into the flesh. “Loyalty is everything. I think in America, you don’t know loyalty.”

Monroe shakes his head, his eyes widening. “I—”

“The Raven, Cole, he wants to take control of Veles. Take me down,da? He using you?”

Monroe shakes his head again.

“I think you lie.”

“I don’t know anything.”

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