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“I don’t want to spill your blood or mar your pretty face. That doesn’t mean I won’t find other ways.”

I avert my face, purposely looking to the lovely view.

Maykl grips my jaw and turns my face to his. “Why are you really here?”

I remain silent.

Maykl’s lips thin. He releases my jaw and moves behind me. I watch his reflection in the window to see him retrieve his gun–from the freezer of all places–and walk out the door.

In the silence that stretches after leaves, I’m both relieved and worried.

Did he go to get his bratva brothers? What is his plan with me? When will he be back?

Actually, none of that matters. He left me alone. Now I just need to figure out my way out of this chair, so I can call Stepanov and escape the building.

Maykl

I let Kira stew. I need to go downstairs and relieve Gleb of his duties at the front desk. Besides, I need to figure out the best way to proceed, and the longer I stay, the more I show my hand to her.

Truth serum. That’s what I need. In the 1980’s, the KGB pioneered a soluble drug–SP-117– that was odorless, colorless and tasteless. It causes the recipient to lose control fifteen minutes after intake.

Maxim has some. He’s our fixer. He’s used the drug to strategic ends in the past. The problem is, if I ask him for it, he’s going to wonder why I need it.

Obviously, I should go to him and Ravil. Explain everything, including my solution, which is to use the drug on Kira to find out exactly who she works for and what she’s after.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the screen, my thumb hovering over it without touching it.

Blyad.’

What if she’s working for one of our enemies?

They could be after Sasha, Maxim’s wife, hoping to kill or capture her to get at that fortune. The interest in those wells gives Ravil a stronghold inside the Russian government. This is how he smuggles his goods from Russia to America without hindrance. Those who control the oil, control government officials around the world. Every other branch of bratva is after what Ravil now has. That’s the power grab and part of what makes our cell so powerful and dangerous.

Kira could certainly be a part of that ploy.

Sending a beautiful Russian woman pretending to need refuge is an excellent way to get someone into the building.

A tight coil of danger winds around my trunk.

I let her in here. I could be the weak link that brings about our demise. If that were true, I could never live with myself.

I swipe across my screen and dial Maxim’s number.

“Maykl.”

Fuck. I hesitate.

Why am I so damn unwilling to turn Kira over to them? What is this hold she seems to have over me?

“Maykl?” he repeats.

“Yes, Maxim. Listen…” I think quickly. “Do you know where I can get my hands on a couple doses of SP-117?” I speak in English because that’s what Ravil requires of us when we speak to each other. He wants us to master the language, so we can move seamlessly through this country.

“Why?”

I knew he’d ask me. I should have prepared a story.

Instead, I growl, “It’s a private matter.”

Silence.

Then Maxim says, “Okay,” with a surprised lilt. “I’ll bring some down.”

Relief sweeps through me. “Thank you.”

I sit behind the desk and tap a pen against the counter, pulling up the camera I set up on Kira.

She appears to be struggling against her bonds.

She won’t get free. I used enough duct tape to keep a small car from moving. It reminds me to grab some zip ties from the desk drawer, though. They might be easier than tape in some instances.

Like in the shower.

That thought gets my dick hard. Remembering what Kira looked like that first night, walking naked out of my bathroom, toweling off her silky blonde hair.

If she’s my prisoner for long, she’ll need another shower. And, of course, I won’t be able to trust her in there by herself. I’ll have to assist.

Soap those lovely soft curves. Slip my fingers into all her nooks and crannies. Make sure she’s squeaky clean before I put her in my bed again.

Maxim arrives off the elevator, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. He walks to the front desk and pulls out a small blister pack containing six pills–three red, three white.

“It works in fifteen minutes. Dissolve the white one in any liquid, but alcohol is best if you don’t want them to know something happened. The victim will just think he’s groggy from the liquor.”

I nod.

Maxim points to the red pills. “Give them a dose of the red when you’re finished, and they’ll come out of it without knowing anything happened. They won’t remember telling you anything. If you don’t care, the second pill isn’t necessary.” He gives me a scrutinizing look.


Tags: Renee Rose Chicago Bratva Romance