Chapter 22 - Anatoli
She actually tried to shoot me. Bashed me over the head and didn’t hesitate for a second.
She was like a wild animal, and if it hadn’t been for my quick reflexes, she would have taken me out and hijacked my plane.
To think I was reconsidering the silent treatment I was giving her.
Her attempt to end me was the exact reason I got my feelings under control after sleeping beside her in the same bed.
A couple of fantastic nights of passion really didn’t change anything, even if something deep within me wanted it to. At any moment, she might kill me.
It was a long flight, and even though she was cuffed to the chair, I could no longer concentrate.
The plan to get some things taken care of on the plane fell to the wayside under the weight of her glare.
Oh, she thought I didn’t notice since she kept her face resolutely turned away, but I could see every scowl in the reflection of her window.
The dirty looks continued after we landed, and I was only free from them when we arrived back at the desert house and I shoved her back in her guest room.
I would send a guard up later to take off her cuffs and bring her some food, but for the moment, I was too pissed.
Too disappointed, which only turned my anger onto myself.
I was a fool for trusting her for even a second, and a bigger fool for feeling betrayed.
You could only be betrayed by someone who was on your side, after all, and she had never been. I gave her one more look before slamming the door on her hate-filled glare.
“You better not touch a single thing of my family’s,” she shouted from the other side, a clank ringing out from the cuffs as she must have hit the door. Probably imagining it was my head.
“What the actual hell?” I asked, jerking open the door.
“I heard you on the plane,” she spat. “Making plans.”
Ah, so she was eavesdropping. I rubbed the back of my head, which still throbbed from getting hit by a metal ice bucket. “The problem with listening to one-sided conversations you know nothing about is that you usually end up mistaken about what you think you heard.”
Color rose in her cheeks, but whether it was anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. She was so damn stubborn, she actually lunged for me, her hands clasped together to accommodate the handcuffs. I stepped out of her way, infuriating her when she missed.
“Enough,” I said, grabbing her shoulders. “I’ve had enough of your attacks for one day. Keep pissing me off, and I might just think about actually setting something up against your cousins.”
“You’re trying to tell me you’re not planning to hurt them?” For a split second, she looked vulnerable and hopeful. Enough to almost make me falter.
“You know I’ve never actually harmed anyone in your family,” I said.
“Liar,” she hissed. “You kidnapped CJ.”
“She’s fine, the last I checked. Thriving, actually.”
Her eyes were wide as she jerked out of my grasp. “You killed plenty of our men.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” I told her. “I could argue that Mat started that war.”
To my shock, those deep brown eyes filled with tears, a sight I thought I’d never see, even if I ever got around to torturing her. A sight that felt like a blow to the gut, despite how angry I was at her.
“You killed August and Viktor,” she said, voice cracking. “My guards,” she explained when I showed my confusion. “My friends.”
I stared at her for a long time, warring with myself about what to tell her.
“Oh, them. The ones who tagged along to try to haul me back to your torture chair?” I should have let her believe the worst. She deserved it after what she tried.
But those glistening tears she refused to let fall made me blurt out the truth. “They’re not dead, far from it.”
“What? I don’t believe you.”
I shrugged. “That’s up to you.” I could have told her I was going to use them as leverage if I needed to, but I decided I’d been soft enough.
She didn’t need to know anything else. I turned to leave the room.
“Remember what I said about pissing me off, Masha. My plans can change at any time. And you might want to remember my explosive insurance policies as well, because you seemed to have forgotten about them.”
Her face went pale as I left her to stew about that for a while, erasing the relieved flash of hope in her eyes when she learned her guys were still alive. Right now, I needed to consider my options with the Collective and make a decision, something I’d been waffling about enough.
I didn’t like the idea of answering to anyone; I’d been on my own for too long.
All those meetings with my family had left me tired of trying to play politics, but since I didn’t want to remain in Russia, it might work in my favor for them to have a strong ally.
As long as the Russian branch of the Collective didn’t get to the point they thought they were in charge, which could always happen.
There was always someone to topple on the long road to the top, and I didn’t want them to think my family was easy pickings while my uncles and cousins regrouped under my long-distance leadership.
I was on the verge of telling them there’d be no deals and then preparing for the possible war that might bring down on me, but I decided to meet with the Los Angeles leaders to hear them out.
It was better to know one’s enemy; easier to take them down.
After arranging the meeting on my own turf, I fired up my experimental software.
Getting into the code and tweaking the few things I wanted to change after having it run in test mode while we were away calmed me down considerably.
There was just something soothing about ones and zeros.
They often caused trouble, even seeming like they were fighting against me sometimes, but they never actually bashed me over the head and tried to shoot me.
After I had everything modified and set the software up to search for information related to the people I’d identified as having anything to do with the Collective, I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the goose egg protruding from the back of my head.
How did I still want Masha when the pain of just touching where she’d hit me should have brought back memories of all the other pain she’d caused me?
It had to stop. I might think I was in control, because she was mine and would remain mine, but the truth was the opposite.
She was dangerous, even without access to a single weapon.
A tear-filled glance had me giving up information she didn’t need to know, that might have served me better to keep from her.
I always respected her; that went without saying. She was a formidable enemy, but I had to remember she was an enemy. If I started to actually like the woman, I’d go even easier on her than I had been, making things harder for myself.
She tortured me, for God’s sake. Left me rotting in that stinking hovel of a safe house, chained to a chair, bleeding, parched, and near death so many times. And what was I doing now that she was under my complete control?
Thinking about having dinner with her. Dancing with her again, under the expansive desert stars, and so much more. None of it involved pain. Was I losing it?
The only thing that would protect my sanity and keep the upper hand was to ignore her, keep her locked up and out of my sight so I could pretend she didn’t exist for a while. Letting her think the worst was yet to come would be a certain kind of torture in itself.
Just why did it feel like this new plan was going to be harder on me than on her?