21. The Russian Angel
21
THE RUSSIAN ANGEL
AIDAN
T he sound of glass breaking echoes throughout the room.
Rory has gone a sickly pale, staring at Alex like she’s seen a ghost.
Alex slowly sets Reagan down, who’s wise enough to return to her seat at the table in between Koen and Liam. The former leans forward in his chair, as interested as I am in this new development playing out before us.
Alex’s staring at Rory like he, too, has seen a ghost. He shoots nervous glances my way while an awkward silence hangs over the room.
“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends , Rory,” Koen taunts behind me.
My jaw is tense and I keep my eyes trained on the blonde who I don’t think has even blinked since Alex walked in.
“I don’t,” she practically whispers.
“Well, it certainly seems like you know our friend Alex here,” Koen hedges. “Or maybe you know him by his other name— Alexei ?”
She flinches.
I sit forward. Oh yeah, she knows him alright. I flex my jaw, taking in this recent development.
If Rory knows Alex as Alexei, it means she had to have met him while he was doing business with the Russians. No one other than Bratva knows him as Alexei.
The thought hadn’t crossed my mind to consult him earlier. Alexei Ryan serves as one of our spies inside the Bratva. He worked his way up the ranks, and now he’s working for Adrik Kostalov himself. But the question is: how does Rory know Alexei?
My eyes shift to Alex. He senses it and meets my gaze, indecision dancing in his dark eyes.
Rory is silent, her pleading eyes on Alexei as she slowly shakes her head no . Mentally begging him to keep whatever secret she’s been working so hard to hide from us. From me.
I lean in, “Or maybe the question is, what do you know about Rory, Alexei ?”
To Alex’s credit, he battles with himself for only a few seconds before finally spitting it out, solidifying what we already know is true. His allegiance remains firmly with the Irish.
“Rory’s a nickname—,” he speaks slowly, his voice soft and apologetic. I swear you could hear a pin drop in this fucking room. Alex lets out a deep breath that sounds an awful lot like regret, not breaking his gaze with the girl frozen across the kitchen before he continues, “—for Aurora.”
Koen and I exchange a look; both of us wondering why he was so nervous to tell us that.
“It’s a pretty name, Alex, but it’s hardly a revelation.” I lean back, annoyed. Alex is practically a brother to me, but he’s wasting my time. His next words stop me in place.
“Her full name is?—”
“No… no… no… Alexei, no…” Rory, or should I say, Aurora , begs from across the room.
“—Aurora Kostalova.”
He says nothing else. He doesn’t have to. Kostalova… she’s a fucking Kostalova ?
Everything happens at once.
My gaze slides back to Rory, my expression darkening.
Her blue eyes rocket back to mine. If I thought I’d seen fear in her expression before, that was nothing compared to what I see there now.
I’m barely even out of my seat before she takes off. Running past Alex, racing for the elevator.
I chase after her but take my time, knowing full well she won’t be able to get out of the loft. I activated the exit code myself in anticipation of a situation such as the one we now find ourselves in.“Where you running off to Angel?” I shout. “This game is only just getting started.”
She slides into the door, smashing at the button with her fingers. When the code screen appears, she howls in frustration at the little screen. Smacking it several times with her palm. She sees me coming from the corner of her eye. The scream she lets out is blood curdling and I feel it under my skin.
I smile.
Rory takes off into the living room, circling around the couch. I take a shortcut, jumping clear over the sectional to land behind her, tackling her to the ground.
We fight for a minute as I struggle to get her under control. She rolls onto her back, clawing at my face, eyes, anything she can reach. I pin her hips down under mine. It’s already over, but it takes another couple of seconds for me to pin her wrists down over her head.Her chest heaves as she stills, recognizing defeat.
Koen and Alex move so they’re behind me. Liam must be keeping Reagan in the kitchen, tucked safely away from the drama unfolding in the living room.
“You told him,” she bites out. Her words are directed behind me at Alex, dripping with betrayal. Her eyes smolder like a storm at sea.
My friend’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
“Cuff her,” I order.
Koen hands cuffs to Alex, who bends down and slips the metal bracelets around Rory’s wrists while she shoots him daggers with her eyes. He finishes binding her hands together and steps back. Watching me. I’ve known Alex my entire life. He’s one of us, an O’Rourke—unofficially. He trusts me with whatever I decide to do, but—there’s a wariness in his dark eyes.
Fuck, he cares about her.
I take hold of the chain linking the metal cuffs and drag the girl up so she’s on her knees. She tries to stand up, but I push her back down with a warning glare.
No wonder she looks so familiar. It wasn’t just that I’d seen her around the rink a time or two. She’s the spitting image of Nikolai Kostalov.Her brother .
They could be twins. Hell, maybe they are.
I take my gun out and push it into her forehead. She glowers at me.
The balls on this one.
“No. More. Lies,” I growl out, tapping her head with my gun with each syllable. I drag the gun down the side of her cheek, the cold metal lifting her chin before I drag the barrel across her lips. Momentarily distracted when the tip of the gun parts them.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t put a bullet in you right now…” I grip her chin roughly with my other hand, forcing her gaze to stay on mine when she tries to look away. “…send your little Russian head in a box to your father with a pretty bow on top?”
This fucking girl looks me right in the eye when she says…
“I can’t.”
Her response pisses me off. I haul her up. Slinging her over my shoulder, and I storm down the hall to the bedrooms.
Her legs kick furiously, and she beats my back with her cuffed hands. Screaming the whole way. The noise isn’t a problem; we own this entire building. It’s not like anyone can hear her, but it doesn’t mean the sound doesn’t go right through me.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” I smack her ass with my gun. It stuns her enough into blessed silence.
We enter the guest room I had her in, and I toss her onto the bed, her body rigid.
She was right to be wary about this bed. I’m on her before she realizes, holding her body down again with my hips, ignoring the hits she gets in with her bound hands. They bounce off my hard chest, and I laugh as I reach up and pull out the chains tucked between the headboard and the mattress, a leather cuff attached to the end of each one.
She’s a whimpering mess now as I pin her hands over her head, releasing one wrist only to secure it to the bed.
“Please, you don’t have to do this.”
I ignore her, taking her second wrist and pulling it to the other side. She’s stopped fighting me. Probably realized she’s going to end up exactly how I want her, no matter how much she fights or begs.
I step back to admire my handiwork as soon as her second wrist is secured. She tests the new restraints. Her fingers curl around the metal chains attached to the leather cuffs on her wrists.
“Now here’s how this is going to go,” I begin, lightly pacing the room. “I’m going to ask you questions, and you’re going to give me some fucking answers. Or I promise you, things are going to get a whole lot worse for you around here.” I turn my dark gaze on her and she shrinks further back into the mattress. “And God-fucking-help you if you lie to me. Got it?”
When she only stares back at me, I repeat my question, louder this time, “I can’t hear you, little lion, I said, do you understand?”
She bites her lip before she nods her head. “Got it,” she replies weakly.
“Good girl.” My words earn me a glare.
“You are Adrik Kostalov’s daughter?” I wait for confirmation.
Her answer is dripping with resentment. “Yes.”
Whatever, I’ll take it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’d kill me,” she answers simply. Her eyes slide to mine.
I tilt my head to the side, studying her. I can give her that one.
“What is the Bratva planning?”
She scoffs, “How am I supposed to know?”
“Why are they allying with the Italians?”
Her jaw tightens before she answers, “I don’t know.” Lie.
“Is Adrik dealing in skin?”
She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Skin? Like animal skins?”
I push on, “Did Adrik order the hit on Declan O’Rourke?”
She stills, staring at me with wide eyes.
I repeat my question, “Did Adrik order the hit on Declan O’Rourke?” Enunciating each syllable. I couldn’t be more clear.
“I don’t know.” Her voice no louder than a whisper.
I pounce on her. “Did Adrik order the hit on Declan O’Rourke? Yes or no?”
“I don’t know!” She shouts this time, pulling against the restraints, unnerved by my repeated question.
“Mmmm, nope. Wrong answer.” I step closer to her. “I think you do know, Aurora ,” I taunt, tracing a single finger from her ankle to the hem of her skirt as I move closer, my threat clear. She lies perfectly still, frozen in fear. “Did Adrik order the hit on Declan O’Rourke?” I ask, softer this time.
“I don’t know!”
My fingers play along the edge of her skirt and I watch as she falls apart. “I don’t know! I DON’T KNOW, OKAY? I don’t know!!!”
I drop her skirt and she releases a panicked breath, pulling hard against her restraints again.
“Such a little liar. Let’s see what a little time does to loosen that tongue of yours.” I turn, stalking for the door. She writhes on the bed behind me. I can hear the metal straining with her movements and she shouts after me.
“No. Please!!! Don’t leave me like this…”
“Aidan!”
I almost turn back at the sound of my name on her lips, her desperate plea to me. But I don’t. I keep going until I’m out of the bedroom and into the hall.
“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING. I SWEAR I DON’T.” She’s sobbing now. “PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!”
They’re the last words I hear from her before I slam the door shut behind me.