Chapter Seven
Audrey
The car ride to Port Montero is painfully quiet.
Igor and I are sitting at the back of one of his SUVs, with Sergei in the passenger seat and another of his men in the driver’s seat.
There are two other SUVs in front of us and another behind us, all the men armed to the nail. Sometimes I find myself forgetting the type of man Igor is, how dangerous and cruel he’s known to be all over Miami.
Hell, sometimes even I’m afraid of him, even though I’d rather have him put a bullet in my head than give him the gratification of knowing that.
We haven’t said a word to each other since we left his mansion, which is partly due to the argument we had about me going with him to the port.
He cited his concern for my safety as the main reason I should stay home, but I know it’s really because he doesn’t trust me yet.
If I’m going to take him down, I need to be around him and his work as much as possible. I need to earn his trust while avoiding his suspicious, because the moment he figures out why I agreed to marry him, this will turn messy in ways I don’t want.
Still ignoring me, my husband scrolls through his phone, replying to a bunch of messages with the fingers on his free hand drumming against his thigh.
It shouldn’t mean much to me, but I lean against the window, staring at the streetlights as they pass by and ruminating on our kiss from earlier.
I hate how my body reacts when he’s close to me. Most of all, I hate how I completely melted against him when he kissed me.
It’s been a year since we were together. A year since I loved him. A year since he shattered my heart with just a few words and that icy coldness in his eyes.
I haven’t forgotten a moment of how I felt. How small and worthless he made me feel. I’ll never forgive him, either.
If only my traitorous body could cooperate with my thoughts.
This man is an enemy and I’m on a mission here. I’ll do well to remember that every time I dangle between lust and self-control.
Half an hour passes, and I’m growing impatient and restless beside the man who still won’t utter a word to me. I’m starting to regret not packing some snacks or something to keep myself busy while on this unexpectedly long trip.
If I didn’t need to know who he’s meeting and how he runs his businesses, I would’ve definitely passed on this irritating experience, but it’s not like I can change my mind now.
Sergei’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror a couple times. For a moment, I wonder if he’s suspicious of me or simply curious about me. Then I notice the motorcycle slipping between cars before settling a few vehicles behind our convoy.
I haven’t been paying much attention, but I’m pretty sure it’s been following us for a while—or at least the driver is heading in the same direction we are.
I squint, trying to see through the headlights.
The rider is dressed in completely black gear, and he or she is also wearing a black helmet that covers every inch of their face.
Usually, that wouldn’t be a problem. I mean, it’s Miami and there are dozens of bike riders who dress the same way. But I noticed the bike when we first hit the road, though I didn’t think much of it. But the look on Sergei’s face shows he’s also suspicious about it.
Or maybe that’s just my imagination.
I’m already pissed as hell and horny as fuck, but mostly pissed from the argument me and Igor had. The last thing I want to do now is spike my adrenaline for no reason.
“Do you usually go out with this many men following you?”
Igor’s finger pauses right above his phone. I can tell he wasn’t expecting me to talk to him. “Not always.”
I’m trying to get as much information from him as I can without sounding too interested in his business, and I could tell something was wrong from the way he rushed us out of the house. “What’s special about today?”
He turns his head and gives me a hard look that makes my pulse go haywire. His eyes aren’t as cold today, yet the hardness in them tells me not to ask any more questions.
Men like Igor don’t trust easily, that much I know. I’m not sure how yet, but I know I’ll have to make him trust me somehow. It’s the only way I’ll truly be able to penetrate his empire.
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Did you hate me?”
He returns his attention to his phone but still answers, “Depends on what you’re talking about.”
I want to ask if he felt anything beyond anger when he found out I made that call a year ago.
If his heart broke into pieces because he’d trusted me and I betrayed him.
I want to know if his chest constricted so hard he thought he would die from the pain, the way mine did when he broke things off between us.
But even asking would mean I think he still has a heart in his chest somewhere. And I know better than anyone else that the only thing in his chest is ice.
I look away. “Never mind.”
The motorcycle is gone by the time I glance outside again. Relief washes over me.
But it doesn’t last, because a few blocks later, an engine roars somewhere behind us, then another.
I turn toward the window as three motorcycles emerge from the traffic, splitting around our SUV in a way I’ve only ever seen in movies.
A shiver runs down my spine. I open my mouth to scream Igor’s name, but nothing escapes my throat.
Igor’s hand immediately reaches for the gun in the holster beneath his jacket.
One of the bikers pulls out a gun, points it in my direction…and everything else passes in a flash.
“Down!” Igor yells.
Before I can react, his entire body is wrapped around me, shielding me from the impact of the bullet and broken glass.
The first gunshot cracks through the air, and it sounds nothing like it does in the movies.
It’s louder.
So loud that the only thing I hear in the minutes that follow is the ringing in my ears.
The passenger-side window explodes beside us, and despite Igor acting as a human shield, glass rains over my hair, my lap, my face.
I scream as the SUV jerks violently to the left.
More shots follow.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Something warm splatters on my cheeks, and air drains from my lungs when I see it’s blood.
The car swerves left and right, terror tearing through my stomach when I see the driver of our SUV is dead.
He’s been shot in the head, which hangs sideways with his mouth wide open.
I clutch my head with trembling hands.
This is a nightmare.
This has to be a freaking nightmare.
Sergei swears in Russian as he moves to the driver’s seat and wrenches the steering wheel straight. The escort vehicles behind us surge forward, trying to shield us from the motorcycles.
My shoulder slams against the seat as our vehicle lurches forward. I can barely breathe beneath Igor’s weight. One hand cradles the back of my head, forcing it against his chest to shield me from the shattered glass.
“Stay down,” he growls, his voice calm despite the chaos erupting around us. “Don’t move unless I tell you.”
My body trembles uncontrollably. The ringing in my ears drowns out almost everything else, but I can still feel the thud of Igor’s heart against my cheek. It isn’t frantic.
It’s steady.
Controlled.
Like the man shielding me isn’t inside a moving vehicle that’s being riddled with bullets.
Another volley slams into the SUV. The armored doors absorb most of the impact, but the force makes the entire vehicle shudder.
“Status!” Igor roars.
Sergei speaks in Russian to someone over his earpiece and then answers, “They’re trying to box us in! We need to find out how many there are.”
I dare to lift my head a fraction.
“Stay down.” The command is so sharp that I freeze instantly.
Igor has already drawn his pistol. His body still covers mine, but he’s twisted enough to glance through what remains of the shattered window. There isn’t even a hint of panic on his face.
“Two on the left,” he says, and then, raising himself enough to see outside the car, he fires twice through the broken glass.
One of the motorcycles swerves violently, clipping the divider before disappearing behind us in a shower of sparks.
Not a second passes before he’s issuing another order. “Sergei, push through. The front team will cover us.”
Sergei nods. “Yes, boss.”
He fires the accelerator, surging the car forward with enough force to throw me back against Igor’s chest.
A violent crunch echoes behind us.
One of the escort vehicles deliberately slams into a motorcycle, sending both rider and bike tumbling across the asphalt.
My stomach lurches. Oh God, I should’ve just stayed home.
Igor doesn’t even seem fazed by the situation beyond making sure I’m safe. It’s almost as if he’s been in this type of shit several times before, and given his reputation, I don’t doubt he has.
Another biker races alongside my window. This one is even closer than the others, close enough that I can see the black visor hiding his face before he raises an assault rifle.
Time moves too quickly, and before I can process anything, a deafening explosion tears through the SUV.
The world spins around me and pain explodes through my left arm with such brutal force that I don’t even realize I’ve been hit until a scream rips itself from my throat.
Igor’s head snaps toward me. His gaze flits to my arm, and for the first time, his blank mask cracks, showing an expression I haven’t seen on him before.
Fear.
“Audrey.” His voice trembles, filled with pure panic as he presses a hand to my shoulder, right where I’ve been shot. “Fucking Christ…Audrey, baby, can you hear me?”
I nod, gritting my teeth as pain splinters through my arm and all the way down to my hand.
It hurts.
It hurts so fucking much that I feel like I’m going to die.
“Hey…don’t fall sleep, okay? I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”
My vision starts to blur, his voice muffled through the pain ripping through my body and the ringing in my ears. I’m not sure how much longer I can stay awake, but even as my body weakens, I fight to keep my eyes open.
“I won’t sleep,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper.
The look in Igor’s face is nothing I’ve ever seen on anyone before.
It’s madness.
A thirst for blood.
His eyes lock onto the biker. “You just made the biggest mistake of your fucking life.”