Page 31 of Eternal
It’s almost amusing how weak he is, not truly intimidating but somehow trusted.
That’s all I wanted and needed. Someone almost invisible.Annoying.
The training basement in the Bratva’s complex here in Vegas is more impressive than I expected. I’ve seen it from a distance while stalking my target but being inside now feels different. There are three buildings: one for sparring, one for gunfire training, and another for martial arts.
Currently, I’m in the sparring room with Lev, who’s rambling about the things I need to know to make my cover believable. He doesn’t realize how little he knows about me. He doesn’t know Ihave ties to the Bratva in Russia or that I’ve spent time in a cell because of it.
Missions can be time-consuming, but right now, I’m not interested in his chatter. I’m waiting for her to arrive.
She runs like clockwork. And I know her schedule perfectly to know that in less than five minutes, she’ll be here.
After a few moments, I sense a presence, a gaze that pulls me in. Turning around, I see her: sweet Voron, her curly hair pulled into a messy bun, clad in a baggy sweatshirt and a sports bra. Tattoos. Lots of them. Snaking across her tan skin.
Seeing them this close feels intoxicating; I can’t help but grin.
Being in the same room as her is fascinating.
She’s utterly unconcerned with who’s watching. She strides straight toward Katarina, who’s sitting on a bench as if she was waiting for her, focused on her laptop. When she catches sight of Voron, a genuine smile lights up her face. They share a brief hug, and then she begins to stretch.
Same sequence, same rhythm.
One leg forward, slow bend at the waist. Her spine ripples poetically as she folds forward again, hands grazing the floor with an ease that makes my throat tighten.
She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even know I’m watching, doesn't even know I fucking exist.
She shifts again, twisting at the waist, arms over her head. Elegant almost.
Her breath is controlled, and I keep watching, nearly mirroring each inhale, each exhale as if my body can’t help but follow hers.
The way her lips part to take it in. Like even the air is adjusting to her rhythm.
I don’t blink. I don’t move.
I simply take it all in, like I’m starving, and she doesn’t even know she’s feeding me.
I can’t tear my gaze away, but I force myself to focus on something else. I step into the ring with Lev for a sparring session. I throw a few punches, warming up. Lev’s weak attempts at blocking are laughable, and I easily sidestep him, delivering a strong jab to his side that sends him stumbling back.
“I’m bored” I say, grinning as I duck under his next swing.
He rolls his eyes, panting heavily and gets out of the ring. “Fuck man, this one hurt.”
I take a break, grabbing a bottle of water from the side. The cool liquid refreshes me, and I take a moment to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my brow.
When I turn back to the ring, my heart leaps into my throat.
Voron is there, slipping on her gloves with fierce determination in her eyes, and the sight is splendid. I can’t help but chuckle at the irony.
That’s how we’re going to meet? In violence and fighting each other?
Our eyes collide, and a rush of adrenaline hits me like a drug. I’ve been stalking her, craving this moment where I could see those eyes closer, and now that I finally have her in my sights, I can’t wait to push her, to see how far I can take her before she breaks.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.
Exactly like I imagined it to taste. Deadly, like her. Soft, but lower than I thought, it had a small rasp to it.
Her eyes narrow as she steps into the ring, ready for a fight. “Are you scared to fight a woman?”
She challenges me again.
