I forgot how to breathe.
“Fucking Henry. That guy knows how to make trouble,” he said silkily.
I blinked at him as he held his hand out to me. “Come here, Princess. Sit with me.”
I moved toward him instinctively, confused and desperate not to let my mind go where it was going. I took his hand, huge and warm and so fucking comforting, I nearly forgot what I was worried about.
Then I settled on his knee and looked at the screen.
Yep, I wouldn’t forget what we were talking about any time soon.
Black and white camera feeds showed the apartment. I recognized the rooms. There was a couple in one video. It was the kitchen a few days ago. I knew because the tall, dangerous man had grabbed the woman and crushed her to him with a vicious kiss as a cloche fell to the ground with a loud clang.
She should run, poor woman.
I watched how she clung to the cruel man with sweetness while he watched her with calculating eyes. She smiled. He smirked.
Get away from that man,I cried inside my hollow chest, but it was too late.
I hadn’t left. I was here with the man I loved watching a replay of himself furiously fucking my mouth in his kitchen. My eyes shied from the scene. Maybe it was a weird kink? Sure, it wasn’t cool to make a sex tape of someone without asking, but I wasn’t entirely against the idea. If Kirill liked to watch us together, I was sure I could get into it for him.
Then I saw the top screen, and the video was different. It was the back door to the Blue Rabbit, and another was Grateful Dawn. I saw my mother sleeping soundly in her bed.
I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep a cry inside. Recriminations crowded my throat or vomit. Who knew? Confusion edged with fear skidded through me as Kirill brought his long fingers to my hair, hanging in a loose hank beside my ear, and threaded his fingers through the strands.
“What is all this?” My voice sounded strange like it was coming from far away. My entire world was playing out on these screens in Kirill’s office, even while I’d walked around humming and smiling and making plans for our future on the other side of the door.
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’ve been following me,” I said, injecting some lightness into my tone, but it sounded hollow.
“What’s wrong, Molly?” Kirill’s quiet voice was taunting, amused almost. “Don’t you like what you made?”
I peeled my eyes from the evidence of his stalking and twisted to meet his dark gaze. His casual tone was a lie. I saw it immediately. He looked at me expectantly, like he was hungry for my reaction. Dark intent scorched a path between us, setting the air on fire.
His words poked at some hazy, half-memory inside me. The night I’d been drugged. The night I’d imagined Kap and Kirill and whatever the hell had happened. I’d rationalized it as a weird nightmare, and now my brain screamed at my stupidity. I’d wanted to believe it was a nightmare, even though it defied logic.
“What I made?” I repeated. “How did I make this?” I raised a hand toward the screens of intrusive surveillance.
“I didn’t sell my soul to the devil for my benefit. It was for you, Molly,” Kirill said, his light tone wearing a little. “It was all for you.”
He was too close, his hands too strong as they curled around my arms. It was like stroking a sleeping feline, only to discover you had a tiger by the tail.
I attempted to stand, but he dragged me back to his lip, banding an arm across my middle hard enough to wind me. He moved with the sudden, lunging strength of a predator. Like someone I wouldn’t want to come face to face with in my shitty neighborhood. How had I not seen it?
Kirill caged me with his strong, tattooed arms and leaned his head into the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.
“Kirill – what is happening?” I asked, trying to sound calm. “I think I should go.”
“Go? But, Molly, sweetheart, we’re just getting started. I thought you loved me?” He chuckled, and the twisted quality of it dug into my heart.
“This isn’t funny. Is it meant to be a joke?” I pushed at his arms. “Let me up,” I demanded.
Kirill didn’t move an inch. He merely shook his head slowly and tutted.“The joke was thinking we could find each other and there wouldn’t be a price to pay for the last seven years. The joke was thinking I’d let you go once I had you again.”
“Why? What did I do?” I cried, pushing harder at his arm. I couldn’t see his face, and I needed to.
He gripped my wrists with one huge, menacing hand to stop me. I twisted as best I could to see his face. Where he had been controlled and cold since we’d met again, now he burned. Anger made his face alive. Crushing, terrible hunger radiated from him. He wasn’t cold anymore—far from it.