“Excuse me?”
“He never smiles and you smile too much.”
That takes him back a little, but somehow, I can see from the little twinkle in his eyes that I’ve impressed him. “Well, damn. Feisty.”
“Don’t.”
“You take offense?”
“It’s condescending.”
He looks confused for a moment. “State your case.”
I roll my eyes, but I take the bait anyway. “Men are never ‘feisty,’ are they? They’re ‘tough’ or ‘strong.’ But women? We’re all ‘feisty little bitches’ to you, or else we’re submissive dolls who roll over and play fetch when you say so. No other choices.”
Yulian strokes his chin. “Hm. I feel like you’re wrong, but I don’t have the brain power to refute you right now. What’s your preference on compliments, then?”
“I don’t think I’m gonna be particularly flattered by anything anyone says to me tonight,” I drawl. “Least of all you.”
“Fair enough. Definitely not feisty, though. Absolutely not, nuh-uh.”
He’s definitely got charm, I’ll give him that. But the constant grin on his face is disconcerting. I can’t be sure he means anything he says.
But that’s probably true of everyone on this yacht—Anton more than anyone. They’re all thieves, liars, killers.
And I’m the fool who strode onboard with my eyes wide shut, just so gosh-darn grateful for the opportunity, thanks so much for having me.
“Why are you here?” I ask, doing my best to sound unconcerned. “Did he send you down to finish up his dirty work for him?”
His smile only gets wider. I’m not sure if the effect is better or worse. “Oh no, for sure not. Anton loves his dirty work. Especially when the dirty work has legs like yours.”
I suppress a shudder and glare at him. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told him: I just want to go back to my life.”
“And my brother agreed to that?”
“No, not in so many words.”
“Yeah, didn’t think so. That’d be very out of character.”
“You could just let me go and tell him you killed me?” I suggest.
Yulian shakes his head. “I don’t lie.”
I roll my eyes. “Jesus. Anton said the same thing before. You can murder, maim, and deal in illegal arms, but lying is off-limits?”
He laughs and rakes a hand through his thick hair. “It’s how we were raised.”
“And who raised you, rabid wolves?”
“Tsk tsk. So judgmental.”
“I tend to be a little harsh when I see someone get their brains blown out, yeah.”
He smirks at my sarcasm. “For someone who wants to be set free, you do spend a remarkable amount of time reminding everyone of how much dirt you know.”
I bite down on my tongue to keep more traitorous words from spilling out. “You won’t get away with this.”
He straight-up laughs in my face. “Which action movie did you steal that line from?”