Chapter Twenty-Three
Leo
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IDIDN’T WANT TO TELLKaja that an inability to apologise or take the blame for anything sounded like most of the men I knew—even myself.
“No wonder you were happy to get away from him.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly happy about how it happened, but I saw an opportunity and I took it. I didn’t think I’d get another chance.”
“What if I’d just killed you?”
“Then at least it would have been over, and I wouldn’t have to face a future like the one Rasmus was carving out for me.”
I noted how she’d called him by his name this time, instead of ‘father’.
My phone pinged with a message. It was Rasmus.
Who are you, you fucking bastard? I will strip your skin from your body while you’re still alive when I find you.
Hmm. Inventive.
It started to ring. There was no possibility he’d be able to trace me via my phone. It was a burner, and I had any tracking switched off.
I was going to need some more footage to send him.
I glanced over at Kaja. She seemed nervous, understandably. How must it feel to be her, to simply be a pawn in other people’s games? I shook the thought from my head. The last thing I should be doing was empathising with her. I needed to remember why I’d brought her here.
What would make Rasmus furious? What would make him want to tear his own heart out? That was the kind of pain I wanted to put him through.
I slid my phone into my pocket and beckoned her with a crook of my finger. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Just do as you’re told.”
She took a step towards me, so we were only a matter of a foot apart once more. Did she think I was going to let her hug me again? I planned on doing a lot more than that.
I caught her by the chin and ducked my head to kiss her mouth. She froze in my grip, not responding, so I kissed her harder. Her tongue slid over mine and her body softened, melding to my frame. Her breasts crushed to my chest, and I wrapped my other hand around her waist and roughly yanked her closer, so my growing erection jammed hard against her stomach.
I broke the kiss and dragged her shirt up over her head and threw it to the floor. It only took me seconds to rid her of her bra—a badly fitting one that I’d bought her back in Estonia. I palmed her breast, rolling and pinching the nipple until it was a tight, hard bud. Her fingers found the front of my trousers, but I wasn’t going to go down that route. I knocked her hand away and focused on ridding her of the rest of her clothes.