Page 157 of Blood & Snow
Arkady's eyes narrow.
He crosses the room in two strides and crouches in front of me again.
This time, he doesn’t grab my hair.
He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"Are you a Bratva whore?" he asks.
"Or do you mean something to him?"
I can't answer.
I can't think.
All I can do is tremble and sob.
"Answer me," he says.
"I don’t know," I whisper.
"I don’t know what I am to him."
I manage to sit up, swiping at my face, swatting at him.
"I fuck him, okay? I fuck him and I clean his crime scenes. That's what I know. He spends money on me to mark his territory, but he has never said he cares…"
"But you care…" Arkady studies me for a long moment.
"You care about him, don't you, you littlebljad?"
"No," I sob, but he's right.
I do care, and I've told him.
I love him.
He has to come.
Arkady stands, not bothering to notice that his ring is caught on my hair, and it yanks a strand so hard I yelp.
But he ignores me, straightening his tie.
"Get a doctor," he says to the older man.
"I want proof."
The older man nods and leaves the room.
The blond one stays, his gun still in his hand.
Arkady walks to the door and pauses, looking back at me.
"If you are lying," he says, "I will slit your throat myself.
But not before I make you watch when I kill Xander Morin.
Do you understand?"
