Chapter 4 – Ilya
The question of whether I was going to kill her, as I’d killed the businessman from Italy, came as a shock to me. It shouldn’t have. But it did.
For someone who claimed she’d only done her job and reported inconsistencies to her supervisor, she knew something that was supposed to be a secret.
Obviously, she didn’t just download the files; she also downloaded the information into her brain. I didn’t step away from her, and I didn’t step any closer either.
I simply stood there, watching her in the silence of her house. Her heart was racing, her chest heaving with slow, uneven breaths. The fear in her eyes was clear as crystal, but she tried all she could to mask it with a frown.
The scent of her perfume invaded my nostrils in such proximity while I towered over her, trapping her in that small corner. The sight of her in that semi-transparent nightgown awakened something in me.
It took all the strength I had to keep my eyes on her face rather than on the twin peaks peeking from beneath her dress. Her skin was flawless, smooth, and soft beneath mine as I held her wrist to disarm her.
The hem of her nightgown hung low above her knees, revealing her alluring thighs. The left spaghetti strap kept slipping off her shoulder, forcing her to adjust it each time.
I’d caught a glimpse of the soft skin above her breasts earlier, and a strange fire ignited within me. Staring at her face alone was a deliberate act to help me stay in control.
Her chestnut hair was slightly tousled, and the dullness of her eyes told me she had barely slept.
“Who are you anyway?” Her voice snapped me back to the present.
I didn’t respond.
She swallowed. “Since you’re going to kill me, you might as well tell me who you are.”
“What relevance is that to you?”
A pause.
“You said your name is Ilya. That’s Russian, right?” She clenched her jaw. “You look like them, but you don’t sound like them. Are you hiding your accent?” Her eyes blinked rapidly, a simple reflex. “You are, aren’t you?”
Some people tend to talk too much in what they assume to be their last moment alive. It’s a coping mechanism.
“You know what? I don’t care. Just…”
“Shut up,” I cut her off, calm as always.
Her brows arched ever so slightly, but she didn’t argue. I couldn’t help wondering what that faint scowl meant.
I hadn’t shut her up just for the fun of it. I did that because I had an incoming call from Boris. After a moment of hesitation, I stepped away to answer it.
“Speak.” I kept my eyes on the meticulously arranged bookshelf in front of me.
“The council knows about the breach and the girl.”
I knew exactly what that meant.
“If she’s not dead within twenty-four hours, they will send someone else to handle it.”
My jaw clenched at the thought of her life being snuffed out over this. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t picture her lifeless body or why the idea of killing her suddenly didn’t sit well with me.
“Boss, are you still there? Did you hear me?”
My eyes squinted slightly. “Yeah, I heard you.”
In that same moment, the door slammed shut behind me. I spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of her back as she bolted from her apartment.
Of course she’d run. I turned my back on her to answer the call. She saw her chance to make a break. And she took it.
I hung up the phone and headed out into the night. Under the moon’s ethereal glow and the twinkling stars, she ran down the empty street like her life depended on it.
Instead of chasing after her, I stopped and took a different route—one I was certain would cut her off ahead. I’d already studied the neighborhood, so I wasn’t moving blindly. I knew exactly where I was going.
I leaped onto a trash bin and jumped over a fence into a neighbor’s backyard. The dog barked at me, flashing its canines, restrained by the chains on its neck. I ignored the beast, reaching the other side of the fence in a few long strides.
After jumping over to the next street, I quickened my pace, my shoes scuffing against the pavement. I could hear her ragged breaths and rapid footsteps as she approached me from the adjacent street.
I stopped in my tracks because, by my calculations, she should be running into me any moment now.
Three. Two. One…now.
She turned a corner, and before she even realized what was happening, her chest slammed into my torso. Her eyes widened in shock, and her body stiffened as she looked up at me.
“Going somewhere?” I asked softly, fingers wrapping around her wrist.
She hesitated, blinking rapidly as if trying to hide her fear. “Let go of me, or I swear to God, I’ll scream.”
I tightened my grip. Not hard enough to cause pain, but enough to hold her in place. “Go ahead. Scream.”
Her lips trembled, her eyes glassy as if she were about to cry. So innocent. So fragile.
I held her wrist with one hand and, with the other, held her lower back, keeping her pressed against me. In such close proximity, I could feel her warm breath and could almost hear the sound of her racing heart.
My eyes traced the gentle curve of her mouth, my grip loosening around her wrist. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and despite her fear, I could tell she was starting to relax.
She yanked out of my grip and pulled away from me, her hazel eyes refusing to meet mine. “Please, just let me go. Accessing those files was a mistake, and I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.” She managed to look at me, her vulnerable expression almost thawing something frozen inside me.
I knew she regretted her actions, and a part of me believed genuinely that she was going to keep her mouth shut. She was too scared to jeopardize her life over this.
But it didn’t matter what I believed. She was still a witness who had sensitive Bratva information stored somewhere in her brain and on her hard drive. Even if I let her go, she wouldn’t survive the dawn of tomorrow on her own.
She’d be eliminated as quickly and efficiently as possible. Unless…
I thought for a moment. “You’re coming with me.”
Her brows arched. “What?” She pulled away, tears filling her eyes. “I swear to you, I won’t say anything—just let me go. Please.”
The sound of her voice and the look on her face poked at a part of me I’d buried a long time ago. I almost felt guilty because, at this very moment, her life had taken a completely different turn.
I reached out and seized her by the wrist again, my grip firm but not too tight.
She tried to squirm out of my grip to no avail.
“Stop struggling,” I said, pulling her close, my eyes boring into hers.
I wasn’t sure exactly what made her comply: the firmness of my tone or the intimidating glare I cast at her. Whatever it was, it worked.
She stopped struggling.
“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” I began, refusing to look away from her face. “You’re going to walk with me to my car, and you’re not going to make a sound.” A pause. “Do you understand?”
Her throat bobbed, lips still quivering as she nodded.
“Good.”
With our fingers intertwined, she walked beside me in absolute silence as we strolled toward my black SUV.