Page 9 of Sold to the Russian
“Just marriage?You sold me to a stranger in exchange forfuckingguns.”
“That’s enough,” Cormac snapped, clenching his teeth. “This idea?this fantasy that you have that you can run away makes me sick. And I know who put it in your head.” He took another step forward. “I know who whispered to you, who told you to run while you still could. Margot.”
Of course, he knew. Cormac knew everything.
Maeve felt color drain from her face, and Cormac smiled.
“That woman has always been a thorn in my side. Too much heart. Too much loyalty.” His smile faded. “And now she’s meddling where she shouldn’t.”
Maeve took a step forward, anger ripping her apart by the seams. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
His gaze hardened. “You’re not in a position to make threats, Maeve. Not at me. Not at your father.” Then he sighed, shaking his head like this whole thing exhausted him when he wasn’t even the one being handed off to marriage. “I don’t want to kill her. I really don’t.”
“Then don’t.”
“I won’t if you do what I’ve asked of you,” he said. “Marry Jonathan. Be his wife. Secure the deal. And Margot lives.”
He’d done it again?proven to Maeve just how vile he could be.
“But if you refuse me,” he continued, his voice turning harder, “if you pull this pathetic stunt and try to run away again, I’ll have her head sent to your room.”
Jesus Christ.
Maeve felt the walls closing in on her. Her grip on the handle of her box was sweaty and grimy. He wasn’t giving her a choice. He had never given her a choice.
It was stupid of her to assume he’d give her one now.
She forced herself to breathe, blinking back the tears that burned in her eye sockets.
Cormac got closer and tugged her chin upward, so she was forced to meet his gaze. “Do we understand each other,A stor?”
Maeve swallowed the knot in her throat, her breath heavy and hot, and she looked into the eyes of her father.
“Yes, Father.”
Cormac smiled, pleased with her answer. Then he kissed her forehead and released her, before climbing all the way and disappearing into his study.
Chapter 3 - Fedya
Tires screeched dangerously against the wet asphalt as Fedya took a hard turn, barely avoiding the car in the opposite lane. Lights from opposite sides of the road blurred past him, the wet roads reflecting the neon glow of the signs overhead.
In the passenger seat, Luca was a few minutes away from death.
Fedya didn’t even need to look to know. He could feel the life draining out of him?the weakening breaths that sounded slower with every passing second, the way Luca’s body had begun to go limp despite the fabric he’d tied around Luca’s torso to control the bleeding.
“You’d better fucking stay with me, Luca,” Fedya growled, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other pressed against Luca’s chest, trying to keep pressure on the wound.
Luca barely made a sound, except for a quiet wheezing that rasped in his chest. A dark, wet stain soaked through the cloth, pooling beneath him, and each bump in the road made him grunt in pain.
Fuck, Fedya was running on fumes. He wished there were a way he could fly the vehicle to the hospital. He knew he was playing a dangerous game when he went for that shot, but he had no other choice. There was nothing else he could do at that moment except succumb to Cormac’s wishes, and now Luca was suffering for it.
Fedya slammed his foot on the brakes, breezing through the streets like a madman.
Fedya squinted a bit, and he could see the hospital up ahead. It was a small, private facility that the Nikolais used whenthings got a little too messy. It was one of the few places where questions weren’t asked, and cash made sure nobody saw too much.
As he skidded to a stop in front of the white entrance of the building, he threw his door open and raced for Luca’s, yanking him out of the car, carrying most of his weight as he half-dragged him towards the glass doors.
The second they burst open, the nurses and doctors froze.
