Page 69 of Twisted Pact
“I do say so.”
“Just be careful. Women like her are dangerous. They make you want things you can’t have. Make you believe in futures that don’t exist for men like us. And when it ends, you’re left picking up the pieces of everything you lost while you were distracted.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s what you said about Natalia. Right up until she nearly got us all killed.”
The reminder makes something cold settle in my stomach. Sasha’s right. Ididsay that. I was convinced Natalia was different and that I could trust her. I thought love was possible for someone like me.
I was wrong.
“Listen,” she begins, “I just don’t want to watch you fall apart again when this ends. And itwillend, Alexei. It always does for people like us.”
“I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
I disconnect before she can respond and stand there in the hallway staring at my phone.
This has to end. Mila has a life she wants to get back to. A doctorate to finish. A future that doesn’t include being tied to a criminal like me.
Even if she wanted to stay, how long before she realizes I’m not worth the risk? How long before she sees an opportunity to use what she knows about me? About my family? About our operations?
Natalia waited two years before she struck. What’s to stop Mila from doing the same?
I should be planning how to extricate myself. How to make sure she’s safe and then let her go back to her normal life before I get in too deep.
Except I’m already too deep. I have been since that night at the safe house. Maybe even since the wedding.
I’m so fucked.
19
Mila
Three weeks of captivity is all it takes to convince a man that you’re going insane.
I watch Alexei across the table at one of Moscow’s most exclusive restaurants and marvel at the fact that I managed to talk him into this. Convincing him took days of planting seeds about how constantly hiding makes us look weak, how our enemies need to see that we’re not afraid, and that projecting strength matters.
The truth is that I just needed to feel human again, wear something other than yoga pants, and exist outside the four walls of that estate for longer than a university presentation that ended in bloodshed.
“You’re staring,” Alexei comments without looking up from his menu.
“I’m admiring the view.”
“The view being what?”
“A man who agreed to take me out like a normal person.”
He sets down his menu and looks at me. His blue-gray eyes hold something I can’t quite read. “You know this isn’t normal, right? There are six men positioned around the restaurant, plus two watching the kitchen. The team is monitoring all exits.”
I offer a shrug. “Close enough for me.”
I chose this dress specifically for tonight. Deep burgundy. Fitted. The kind that makes me feel like someone worth looking at instead of a protected asset. I spent an hour on my hair and makeup, doing everything I could to reclaim some sense of normalcy.
The effort was worth it for the look on Alexei’s face when I came downstairs.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me now. “I should have said that earlier.”
“You were too busy cursing yourself for agreeing to this.”
