Page 32 of Dark Possession
I find him in the living room. He’s at the window, staring out into the night like he owns it.
“Lev,” I start, my voice steady, “what exactly do you want from Sergei?”
He turns, eyebrows raised like he wasn’t expecting me to ask that. “Why do you care?”
“Maybe I can help.”
That gets his attention.
He leans against the window frame, arms crossed, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Finally, he says, “Sergei is making a nuisance of himself. Encroaching on Ivan Romanov’s turf…sticking his nose into matters that don’t concern him. I want to establish a partnership with Romanov. To prove myself useful, the best solution would be to eliminate Sergei.”
Eliminate.The word makes my stomach churn. I’m not a killer, and I don’t think I could ever be.
I don’t want to outright refuse him, though. I need to give him something. I hesitate, my fingers curling into my palms, my breath shallow.
“I’m not… I don’t—”
He must see the discomfort on my face because he waves a hand. “That’s not anything I expect from you.”
“Then what do you expect from me?” I ask, my voice quiet but firm. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, other than—”
I stop, my voice cracking. Outside, rain beats softly against the window panes, and I use it to center myself, remind myself of what I’m doing, why I’m doing it. Then I start again. “This was always supposed to be a temporary arrangement. Something to pay my sister’s debt and get her out of a mess. If I can do something to help you with this Sergei, and then get back to my regular programmed life…”
Lev’s lips press together, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. His fingers twitch at his sides before he looks away. “Sergei is paranoid and has proven elusive as hell. He’s rarely seen in public, and when he is, he’s always surrounded by security, always protected. If I had someone or something to lure him out…” His voice is careful and measured, and he eyes me with fresh interest. Then he shakes his head, dismissing the thought. “But I don’t like the idea of using you as bait.”
I see my chance slipping through his fingers. If I don’t act now, it’s gone. “I can do it. I could seduce him,” I say quickly. The words tumble out before I lose my nerve. “Well, not actually seduce him. I would just make him think I’m going to…” I let the words trail away, unable to finish the thought.
A muscle jumps in Lev’s cheek. “How, exactly, would you do that?”
“Meet him in a hotel bar. Lure him to a room or something, where you’ll be waiting.” My voice hardens. “But I want something in return.”
His head tilts slightly, curiosity flickering in his expression. “Say I agree. What do you want in return?”
“My sister’s debt.” I stand taller, meeting his gaze head-on. “Completely cleared. The men she owes money to—they want more. I think they’ll keep asking, because I don’t have anyone behind me, protecting me. It has to stop.”
He doesn’t respond right away, and I panic. Did I push too far? Too fast? His silence feels like a blade hanging over me.
“How much?” he finally asks.
“One hundred thousand,” I say, the lie slipping out as smoothly as a well-practiced line. I can’t help it—I need more than just Marina’s debt cleared. I need something for my mother, too, a safety net for all of us. My heart races, wondering if he’ll see through me.
He studies me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he nods. “Fine. That way, we both get what we want.”
Relief crashes over me, but there’s no time to celebrate. His gaze travels over me neutrally, assessing, and we dive into planning.
“You’ll have to look breathtaking,” he says, his tone as sharp as the suits he wears. “We need to go shopping.”
Early the next morning, we’re in a boutique I would never have dreamed of stepping into a week ago.
Lev prowls through the racks like he owns the place while I hover uncertainly behind him, his gaze lingering on the most daring cuts and fabrics. He holds up a scrap of material that looks like it wouldn’t cover a child.
“This one,” he says, his voice low, sending a shiver down my spine.
I stare at it, my cheeks burning. It’s difficult to tell what the dress is supposed to look like, but there’s not enough material for decency. “I can’t wear that.”
He smirks. “You can. You will. And trust me, you’ll be unforgettable. Now go put it on.”
When it’s all said and done—when I’m in heels so high I feel like I’m walking a tightrope and a dress so scandalous it feels like a second skin—I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror.
