Page 59 of Twisted Fate

I will have failed.

Maybe I’ve already failed.I look at his sharp features in the moonlight, at his handsome, chiseled face, the broad expanse of muscle leading down to where the white sheets are pooledaround his hips, and everything in me rails against the idea that I’m supposed to kill this man.

That I could be the reason he doesn’t exist any longer. The reason he’ll never touch me again.

I huff out a breath, looking back up at the ceiling. I can’t play this game forever. Once we’re back in Miami, Kane will want explanations as to why Konstantin isn’t dead. And even if I can come up with an excuse, some way to drag it out… I’ll have to do it eventually. If I don’t, either Konstantin will figure me out, or Kane will send someone else to do it instead, and bring me home. And then…

Neither outcome—Konstantin discovering the truth or Kane having to complete the job a different way—is a good one for me. I don’t think Kane will torture or kill me, but he won’t trust me any longer. And that’s almost as bad as the horrific death that I know Konstantin would mete out if he knew the truth.

If Kane doesn’t trust me, there’s no telling how long I’ll be working for him, doing shitty, dangerous jobs, until I work my way back into his good graces. He’ll send me out after the worst of the worst, probably hoping I get taken down and won’t ever be able to cash in on what he promised me.

I have to do this. I look at my bag again, calculating whether or not I can slide out of bed without Konstantin knowing. Without him sensing me. He’s trained to sleep lightly, and he’s more on edge than ever, understandably so. But that makes my job even harder than it already is.

His hand tightens on my hip, as if even in his sleep, he can sense me thinking about getting up. The press of his fingers into my skin feels possessive.Protective. The irony of it isn’t lost on me—he’s protecting himself from another snake, lying in his bed.

One who is supposed to kill him… but maybe no longer wants to.

Who am I kidding?I’ve neverwantedto kill anyone. I’ve never felt anything about it one way or another. I treated my missions like filling out paperwork—it was my job, and I did it, and I did it well. I trusted that there were reasons why these men’s names found their way onto Kane’s desk, why I was sent out after them. I never wanted to kill, I simplydid.

But now… I know this time why Kane wants Konstantin dead. He wants him dead because it threatens his grip on the Miami underworld. His bottom line. Hispower. I’m supposed to kill to keep that status quo for him.

Not all that long ago, I would have done it without blinking. But now… I don’t know if I can do it. If I can destroy Konstantin Abramov just to keep Nicholas Kane in power.

I don’t give a shit about the politics of Miami’s underworld. But I do give a shit about the man lying next to me.

If letting that waiter kill him, or that guard, or Elia, or letting that snake bite him would have been sufficient to finish my mission—I still wouldn’t have done it. Maybe I would have when it was just the waiter. Maybe even the guard, although I was slipping after feeling Konstantin’s mouth on me. But by the time it was Elia?—

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I sit up quickly, grabbing it, and I see Kane’s name on the screen.

Speak of the devil.I swear silently as I see Konstantin shift, and I ease my way out of bed, the phone still buzzing in my hand. I silence it, watching Konstantin to see if he wakes up as I carefully pad toward the outdoor patio.

His security is next door, but I don’t see any sign of them out here. Still, a phone conversation could be dangerous.

“Hello?” I whisper as I answer the phone.

“Why isn’t he dead yet?” Kane’s voice is cold and curt. He knows as well as I do how close to the end of the ‘honeymoon’ it is. That Konstantin should be dead by now.

“I told you. Complications.”The way he kisses me. The way his hands feel. The way his?—

“There have been multiple attacks on him,” I say quietly, speaking quickly before Kane can interrupt me. “I managed to question one of the assassins. She said Don Genovese sent her, working with the Slakov Bratva. He likely sent the others as well.”

Kane curses under his breath. “Did Konstantin see you question her?”

“Yes.”

Another curse. “How the fuck did you explain that, Valentina? That’s not the person you’re supposed to be out there.”

“I told him my father taught me some things. That he took me on missions. Saying it all aloud, it was kind of fucked up.” I bite my lip, knowing Kane hears the underlying words. Thathe’sthe father in that equation. The one who trained me, shaped me, and molded me. The one who made me what I am—a woman who can’t fall for anyone, because every man I’ve ever gotten close to has been a target.

“And he bought it?”

“He did.”

Kane pauses. “What happened to the assassin you questioned?”

“Konstantin cut off three of her fingers. Wrapped them up in silk and sent her back to Don Genovese with his security.”

I hear Kane swear again. “I need to look into this. Hold off on killing him, Valentina. I want to see what I dig up. And if you can get anything additional out of him—if you can get close enough to get him talking, do. See if you can get him to spill his plans for the Bratva, what he’s been doing, all of his hopes and dreams and that bullshit. Report back to me when I tell you to, once you’re back in Miami.”

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