32. Sasha #2
“R-really?”
“Yes.”
I narrow my eyes. To say this is highly suspicious would be an understatement. I was mentally prepared to fight tooth and nail for this while undergoing his unforgiving questioning. I even thought of how to survive if I cracked and told him everything under torture.
True, Kirill hasn’t asked again about the ‘man’ he thought I was talking to that one time, and I somehow thought maybe he’d really taken my threat seriously. But that’s just not his style.
The fact that I need to go home is making me even more nervous.
I’ve rarely talked to my uncle since that day I almost got caught, and only when I’m off duty and away from the house.
He quit asking me to end my mission to get close to Kirill.
In fact, he seemed glad when I told him that I’m part of Kirill’s inner circle now.
So I’ve been slowly working on my initial plan to eventually gain access to the office.
I’ve been there a few times alone, but Kirill updated the security, so all the critical files are now protected by his thumbprint.
I’m still trying to figure out a way around that issue without triggering his suspicion.
On the other hand, neither Uncle Albert nor I have received any news of my brother. Sometimes, I go to sleep with tears in my eyes, thinking he’s already dead, but most of the time, I refuse to believe it.
Yesterday, I learned that Babushka is ill and that it’s bad.
Uncle Albert said he’d take care of her, but I have to go home, just in case.
I’d never forgive myself if this were the last chance I had to see her alive and I chose not to go.
So I told my uncle that I’ll be returning to Russia in the next few days.
Which is why I came up with this vacation request. That Kirill so readily approved.
He’ll probably send someone to follow me.
But that’s fine. I’ll just have to beat him at his own game this time.
* * *
“You don’t have to drive me to the airport,” I tell Kirill, who’s personally driving the car.
He never does that.
His face is unreadable, not that he is readable most days, but it’s been shrouded in more mystery since I announced I needed a vacation.
While he readily agreed, his attitude has changed. He’s spent most of his time running external errands and has often ordered me to stay on house guard for Karina.
We haven’t been alone in a room like he used to make sure we were in the past. And as for his room, he’s only used it to shower and change clothes.
As a result, there’s been no sex for three whole days.
Which hasn’t happened in months.
Kirill has never gone an entire day without pulling me into a dark corner to fuck me until I have trouble standing.
So the recent change of attitude has left me baffled. I haven’t been able to sleep or eat properly thinking about the meaning behind all of this.
Considering his nature, Kirill doesn’t do anything without a purpose. Everyone and everything is part of a greater plan for him.
Maybe he did get tired of me and is now throwing me away.
Except…
If that were the case, why would he personally drive me?
“How did you know I was flying out?” I ask when he doesn’t answer my previous question.
Again, no reply.
My hands tighten in my lap, and a mixture of dark feelings—hurt, pain, and dissatisfaction—start to burst at the seams.
“If you were going to be this silent, you could’ve at least let Maksim or Yuri come along.”
Zip. Zilch. Nada.
I stare out the window to stop myself from being overly emotional and probably saying things I shouldn’t.
By the time the car stops in front of the airport, I’m ready to kill the crazy tension that’s been suffocating me for the past hour.
“I’m off.” I don’t look at him, because that will make me want to hug him or kiss him, and we’re simply not in that type of relationship.
A strong hand grips my wrist, wrenching me back, and I gasp as I turn and face him.
A shadow covers his face, and a weird expression I’ve never seen before takes over his sharp features. It’s a mixture of pain and rage, accentuated by the deathly hold on my wrist.
“What?” I ask in a small voice, scared of speaking any louder.
“Don’t go.” It’s two words, but they’re so charged that they hit me in the chest.
“I…will come back in three days. I promise.”
“Don’t. Go.” It’s an order this time, fused with every ounce of authority Kirill is capable of.
“I have to,” I whisper.
He pulls me over so that I’m half lying on his lap, removes his glasses, and kisses me.
No. He doesn’t only kiss me. He devours me, his tongue feasting on mine and his teeth nibbling and biting.
He shows me instead of telling me that all my dark thoughts during the previous three days are null and void.
It’s not that he’s lost his desire for me or that he doesn’t want to touch me anymore.
Because it’s still there. I can feel his desperation that mirrors mine, and I can tell, without a doubt, that he probably wants me as much as I want him.
He kisses me with a fervent passion that seems foreign to him. It’s chaotic, unplanned, and doesn’t feel like he even knows what he’s doing. But it’s all him.
When his lips leave mine, I want them back.
No, I need them back, even if my mouth is too swollen and achy.
“Don’t go, Sasha,” he asks this time, softly, pleadingly even.
And I melt.
Every fiber in me breaks, willingly offering itself to this monster.
My monster.
I want to nod, to agree to his plea. I want to throw away that other part of my life and just remain here.
In his arms.
I want to keep looking at his icy eyes and fantasize about softening them one day.
But I can’t. Because this isn’t only about me. This is about my family.
With superhuman effort, I pull away from Kirill’s grasp, still dizzy from the passionate kiss, and shake my head. “I’ll be back in three days.”
His expression doesn’t change, but a muscle tightens in his jaw.
Before I change my mind and actually stay, I grab my backpack and leap out of the car.
The moment I’m in front of the entrance, I chance a look behind me to take my fill of Kirill, but he and the car are gone.
My shoulders hunch as I disappear into the airport. The flight is uncomfortable, not because of the length but due to the thoughts plaguing my mind.
I can’t stop thinking about Kirill’s expression when I refused to stay after he asked me for the third time.
Also…that kiss. It makes my head swim just thinking about it.
When I reach Russia, I change clothes in the airport bathroom so that I look different from when I left. I pull on a hoodie and hide my gun in my waistband. Then I turn my backpack inside out so it’s blue instead of dark orange.
Though Kirill was mad at me when he dropped me off, I can’t be too careful since he could’ve sent someone to follow me.
I even hide my phone in a locker at the airport since I’m sure it has some sort of a tracker on it.
It takes me more time than needed to exit the building, but I leave fully satisfied that no one is tailing me. And if they were, I already lost them.
Still, I take careful routes, hitching rides on some large utility trucks until I get to the faraway village where my family’s located.
I leave the last truck and walk about five miles in the middle of the thick snow and freezing cold, just to make sure no vehicles or people are after me.
By the time I reach the location Uncle Albert gave me, I pause. I expected it to be a village, but there’s only a warehouse.
It’s hidden by a hill, looking way too similar to the warehouse from our last mission here…
This can’t be right.
My senses go on full alert, and I retrieve my gun as my steps become careful. Uncle Albert wouldn’t have brought Babushka here. It’s not a place that’s fit for an old woman or a child like Mike.
There must’ve been some sort of a mistake in the coordinates he gave me—
“Sasha.”
I spin around, and sure enough, my uncle is standing there in the snow. But he looks…different.
My peaceful uncle is dressed in combat boots and has a firearm slung over his shoulder.
And he’s not alone. A few other men appear, all dressed in fighting gear and black masks.
Mercenaries?
“What’s going on?” I ask, my finger still on the trigger. “Where’s Babushka? Who are all these people?”
“All in good time, Sasha.” My uncle wraps his arm around my shoulder. “You did so well.”
“I still haven’t done anything.” I stare at him quizzically.
“Oh, but you have. Here, put this on.” He hands me a mask that’s similar to the ones the others are wearing.
“Uncle Albert, can you tell me what’s going on? I thought I was here for Babushka.”
“Oh, you’ll see her eventually.” He puts the mask on me, then dons his own and hugs me. “I’m so proud of you, Sasha. You know that, right?”
I nod, even though my chest is tightening with every passing second.
He’s saying I did so well, but why do I feel like I made a terrible mistake just by showing up here?
A noise echoes in the air before a snowmobile appears. I pull back from Uncle Albert, thinking this is one of their companions.
“You managed to get him to come alone,” Uncle Albert says in a proud voice.
“Who…” I trail off as the rider of the snowmobile comes into view.
My heart drops. My legs shake, and the world starts spinning.
I would recognize that build anywhere. In a crowd. Or even in snow clothes.
“Uncle Albert,” I whisper. “What…what are you planning?”
“Revenge, my darling. That man was the mastermind behind our family’s massacre.”
I watch in horror as my uncle opens fire on Kirill.
TO BE CONTINUED…