Page 56 of Brutal Monster
We exchange a glance that speaks volumes, a moment of perfect understanding passing between us. Whoever is orchestrating these events has a grip on Adan that is more powerful than his instinct for self-preservation. This makes him a formidable threat. Unpredictable and volatile.
"My father proposed keeping him alive," Inez says, her voice steady but laced with caution. "Using him to our advantage."
I mull over this suggestion, carefully balancing the possibilities and the inherent dangers. "We could do that. We might be able to extract valuable information from him over time. But remember, he'll never stop trying to harm you."
"No," she agrees. "He won't."
Adan watches our exchange, his good eye darting between us. Fear has finally begun to seep through his defiance. "What are you going to do?" he asks.
Inez steps close to him again, bends down until they're eye-to-eye. "I'm going to find whoever put you up to this," she says softly. "And I'm going to dismantle their operation piece by piece. Then I'll come back to finish our conversation."
She straightens, turns to me. "Have your men take him to the secondary location. No comforts, but keep him alive."
I nod, pulling out my phone to arrange the transfer. As I step away to make the call, I hear Adan's desperate voice.
"You can't just leave me here! Inez! We're family!"
"No," she says, her voice carrying across the warehouse. "We're not. Not anymore."
When I return to her side, she's staring at Adan with something like regret. Not for her decision—Inez never second-guesses herself—but perhaps for what might have been in another life.
"My men will be here in ten minutes," I tell her. "We should go."
She nods, but doesn't move immediately. "Adan knows something. Something bigger than a simple power grab."
"We'll find out what it is," I promise. "Together."
"Together," she echoes, finally turning away from her stepbrother. As we walk toward the exit, she slips her hand into mine. A rare public display, even with no real audience. Her fingers are cold.
Outside, the fog has thickened, wrapping the waterfront in gray. My men arrive, efficient and discreet, disappearing into the warehouse without needing instructions. I help Inez into the car, close the door, then round to the driver's side.
"Take me home," she says as I start the engine. "I believe we have a wedding night to finish."
I glance at her, searching for signs that this is a distraction, an attempt to push away what just happened. But her eyes meet mine steadily. This is Inez—compartmentalizing, moving forward, never dwelling. It's what makes her dangerous. It's what makes her mine.
"As you wish, Mrs. Zhukov," I reply, my voice steady as I steer the car away from the dimly lit warehouse. The engine hums softly beneath me, and the tires crunch over the gravel as we move. I catch a glimpse of my men in the rearview mirror, their figures silhouetted against the harsh glow of the warehouse lights, as they heave Adan's limp form into the back of a waitingvan. His days are numbered. No one dares to threaten what is rightfully mine and walks away to tell the tale.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
INEZ
Iwake to sunlight streaming through gauzy curtains, turning the white sheets to gold. Three days since the wedding. Three days since Adan. Three days in this paradise that feels unreal after the blood and concrete of that warehouse.
The space beside me is empty, sheets rumpled where Vanya slept. I stretch, feeling the pleasant ache in my muscles from last night's activities. My wedding band catches the light, still strange on my finger. A commitment I never thought I'd make.
The balcony doors stand open, ocean breeze carrying salt and heat into our bedroom. I slip from beneath the sheets, padding naked across polished wood floors to the carved mahogany dresser. My bikini—white, minimal—waits atop it. Vanya chose it. He said wanted to see me in something other than black for once.
I slide the fabric over my skin, adjust the thin straps. The mirror reflects a woman I barely recognize—relaxed, almost soft. Dangerous. I can't afford softness, not with Adan's words still echoing. Not with unknown enemies lurking.
"You're thinking too hard."
I turn to find Vanya leaning against the doorframe, shirtless, a cup of coffee in hand. His eyes track over my body with unhurried appreciation.
"Force of habit." I twist my hair into a knot to wring out the sea water. "Any word from home?"
"Nothing that can't wait." He sets his cup down and crosses to me. His hands settle on my waist, thumbs brushing the exposed skin above my bikini bottom. "You promised. Three days without business."
"I promised to try." I lean into him slightly, allowing myself this moment of weakness. His skin is warm against mine, solid and reassuring. Real.
