Page 11 of Ruinous Need
The only issue is me.
My physical reactions. Something that has never been a problem before.
I don’t get nervous. I don’t react. I am stone-cold. I’ve been tracking targets since I was a teenager. And never before have I seized up the way I did when I tailed Lisette.
When I shot the Irish bastard, she looked up at me with those sea-green eyes, leaning away from me as though I was the picture of evil.
The world went dark except for her.
My pulse started to flutter in my neck. It fucking fluttered.
My fists clenched involuntarily. I could hear the blood rush in my ears. My heart thudded against my chest again and again like it wanted to be set free.
I sucked in a ragged breath and got nothing but the sweet cinnamon scent of her shampoo. Flooding my senses. Consuming my thoughts.
A heart attack. That’s what it was, I decided. Any second it would be over. I would be on the floor, heart stopped, like all those other bastards I’d put in the ground.
But the seconds ticked by, and my heart continued beating. I was expecting everything to fade away. Instead, when I looked at her, everything was sharply defined.
Her. Lisette. She was what was wrong with me.
Still is, judging by the way my fists are balled at my sides again.She might be a full decade younger than me, and then some, but I can’t stop staring.
Her straight blonde hair swishes around her bare shoulders when she takes off her grey woolen coat.
The pale yellow silk dress skims over her curves, leaving little to the imagination. The fabric’s not even thick enough to hide the line of her panties on her hips.
So this is what she wears on a date.
I suck in a breath and move my thoughts elsewhere. I’ve checked out the bar staff. They’re vigilant but not hyperaware. They won’t notice a thing as long as we keep the procedure outside to under a minute.
All Markov and I need to do is time it right so that they’re serving customers while we deal with the lovebirds. And theywill be — a difficult couple seated at the bar have been bribed to make complaints about their drinks the moment Lisette and her date step outside.
The side street is quiet enough late at night that we can take her quietly, with no witnesses. Her date will collapse to the ground from the sedative that we give him, but it’ll look like he’s had too much to drink.
Alcoholics are not unusual in New York. Even ones in designer suits.
I can’t help but bring my laser focus back to Lisette. Her date is late. She arranges herself on a bar stool facing the door and orders a drink while she waits, tapping her ankle against the table leg.
He greets her with a sheepish apology. Fifteen minutes after they agreed to meet.
A muscle ticks in my jaw as he bends down to kiss her cheek. Asshole.
Focus. You have a job to do, Viktor.
The bar is one of those modern places with minimalist decor, hardwood floors and expensive drinks. Not owned by the Bratva, though that would have been convenient.
It faces directly onto the street, giving us a perfect view of what’s happening inside. Even as he leads her into a booth a little further back, so I can only see the sweep of her neck and the blonde swirl of her hair. She lets him guide her to her seat with a hand on the small of her back and pretends not to notice the way he ogles her legs.
I wonder why she wanted to go on a date.Maybe she wants to taunt Semyon by seeing another man. Maybe he’s into that. I don’t know shit about their relationship.
All I know is that she downloaded the dating app immediately after our encounter and the phone call from Semyon. She had the date set up within an hour. Semyon’s hadher phone cloned for years, but it seems I’m the only one who’s bothered to use it.
The guy is a business major named Damien. He’s not the kind who expects his dates to think for themselves. His face reddens and he seems flustered because she’s already ordered herself a cocktail.
I wonder once again whether my remit to protect her extends to killing the asshole she’s on a date with. My car is out front and they’re in plain view of the street. It would be an easy shot, straight out the passenger window.
I chuckle at the thought.
