18. Kira
KIRA
Iturn the water as hot as it'll go and step under it.
The pressure in this shower is ridiculous, like standing under a waterfall, and I tip my head back and let it hit my face until my skin burns.
It's a welcome distraction from the thoughts running rampant in my brain, of what Victor said about Timur's friend, Morin, and how that directly conflicts with my place in his world.
A very real place he spoke about wanting me in.
But I'm a Mirov, not a Belova, and Morin is set to wipe out my entire family.
If Victor is right and those hits are slaughtering my loved ones, I don't know if I want to be with Timur at all.
And even if he's not condoning it, or he's been deceived into allowing Morin to do as he pleases, it still means I'm on the list too.
I've lied to him about who I am, and when he finds out, won't he just tell Morin to dispose of me too?
I work shampoo through my hair and scrub at my scalp with my fingertips, digging in hard, working up a lather that runs down my neck and over my shoulders.
If only it were so easy to wash away my sins.
Like stains on my resume, I'm afraid Timur would never see the real me anymore.
He sees what he wants to see—a beautiful ally who got trapped in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But I'm nothing more than one of his enemies too, and it's only a matter of time before he figures it out.
The water pools at my feet and spirals into the drain and I watch it go, wishing I were anywhere but here.
I confessed to him that I have feelings for him, and those feelings are very real.
I believe him when he says he has feelings for me too, but they're based on a lie, not the truth.
When he learns the truth, he'll question whether or not all of this was even real.
No matter what I tell him, he won't believe me. He'll never trust me.
All because that snake in the grass, Morin, didn't kill me.
I sigh and turn into the water, letting the suds rinse down my body and away.
That man has been playing both sides, telling Timur things about my uncle's businesses while selling secrets that Timur's brother would kill over back to my family.
It's no wonder my uncle wants to kill the man, and Timur should too... or if not him, at least Roman.
I push the curtain back and grab the towel off the hook, refusing to let the anger get to me.
After such a sweet dinner the other night, I've been in a good mood.
I want to stay that way. So as I wrap them around myself and tuck the corner in above my chest, I squeeze the water out of my hair with a second towel and suck in a deep breath.
I want to focus on positives, like the fact that Timur and I really connected.
If that connection holds, I'll be right in his ear every time he feels close to me to plant more seeds of doubt until the truth comes out and my family is saved.
The Mirov organization is not coming for Timur's family.
We've been minding our business running our club alongside our other businesses doing just fine.
Morin is the one who stirred up this hornets' nest, and when he's removed, everything can go back to being peaceful.
With my mind readjusted and ready to put those negative spirals behind me, I push into the bedroom, nothing but my towel around my body.
And when I walk through the door, I see Morin seated in the armchair by the window where I sit and watch birds.
He's got one leg crossed over the other and a gun resting on his knee.
His hand is draped over it loosely, like it's a cup of coffee or something, not a deadly weapon. And he's scowling at me.
It sends a shock of fear through my whole body, causing every muscle to go rigid and the hairs on my arms to stand on end. I've seen him stand outside my window to guard the house, but he's never come into my room.
"Dryden!" I shout, feeling the panic in my chest swell until I almost can't breathe. "Dryden!"
"He's not here," Morin says. "I sent him on an errand."
"You can't send him anywhere. He works for Timur, not you."
"He works for the family, and I outrank him when Tim's not home." He uncrosses his legs and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The gun stays in his right hand, barrel pointed at the floor. "Sit down, Kira. Or whatever the fuck your name is."
"Get out of my room..." I hiss, shaking now. I glance at the door and wonder if I scream if Sonya would come running, or Timur. Where are they? Why am I alone with this monster?
"What's your real name?"
"That is my real name." My bottom lip trembles as I take a step back toward the bathroom. I could lock myself in there, but he'd just break the door open. He probably has a key too, like the one he used to get into this room. The thought makes me shudder.
"Sit down." He rises, flicking the tip of the gun at the bed, but I shake my head and point at the door.
"I want you to leave." My voice is high-pitched and whiney. I'm terrified.
"I don't care," he snarls. "I've been looking into you. Running your story against everything I can find. And you know what I keep coming up with?"
I grip the towel tighter at my chest and back up until I'm pressed against the bathroom door frame.
There is really nowhere else to go. He has me boxed in and he's armed, and there's no one else in this house to stop him. If he wanted to, he could do whatever he wants, make it look like someone broke in, then injure himself and say he tried to fight them off. And I wouldn’t put it past him.
"Nothing," he says. "Kira Belova doesn't exist, honey. So tell me your real name." He lifts the gun, so close to me now, I can smell him. The cold metal runs along my jawline and down my neck, flicking wet strands of hair off my shoulder. The greedy, hungry look he gives me disgusts me.
"I don’t have to tell you anything. Fuck off... Get Timur. I want you out of here." I have no defense, no other story to tell him to get him off my back. If he tells Timur that he doubts my story, I'm fucked. They'll take a harder look and find I'm not who I say I am.
"Oh, but you do have to tell me what I want to hear.
" Morin's voice rumbles out as a low growl, and I turn my head to the side, foolishly exposing my neck to him.
"And I want to know all about how a pretty little liar like you has convinced my best friend that she's someone she's not.
" His gun strums on my pulse point, making me swallow hard.
"I'm not a liar," I mumble, craning my neck back the closer he inches forward. I can almost feel his body pressing on mine now.
"I know what you are," he almost whispers.
"You're a Mirov... A lying, slutty bitch who is using her body to screw with my boss's head.
How many times did you fuck him? Hmm?" His free hand rises and wraps around my neck, thumb pressing into my jugular and holding there like at any second, he might crush my windpipe.
"You're an asshole," I snarl, ready to spit in his face. But I hold back, afraid if I do, he'll strangle me.
He tilts his head and studies my face. "Once I convince Timur that you've been lying to him, he's gonna start asking questions.
What will happen to you then, honey?" Morin lowers the gun now, hiding it in the back of his waistband.
I don't want to know what he has planned.
My mind can't fathom him doing anything worse to me than what he's already done.
My heart hammers as I blurt, "Get away from me, you monster. You're a lying sack of shit. You're double-crossing this family and spreading lies just to cover for how you're selling their information."
I can't even finish spewing the hatred I want to spit at him because his hand clamps down on my throat hard, choking me.
"Now you listen to me, you bitch," he snarls, spitting on my face as he speaks.
His eyes are black as sin, his grip crushing.
"I was trying to play nice with this, but I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson, aren't I?
Little slut like you can't keep her mouth shut...
" He grabs my towel and yanks at it, exposing my body, and I would whimper if I could, but I can't.
I can't make a sound. I can't even breathe. My hands falter between trying to cover my chest and trying to claw at his grip so he doesn't kill me, and suddenly, the world is spinning. My vision is going dark and my heart beat in my head feels like a jackhammer.
"You give it up for Tim. Well, you can give it up for me." His hips grind against my thigh and I feel his dick getting hard, and I know exactly what he's planning.
And I refuse to be his victim.
My knee comes up instinctively, driving into his groin as hard as I can.
The blow doubles him over instantly, and his grip on my neck loosens.
I use the split second of pain he feels to drive the heel of my hand up under his nose hard, and it snaps his head back, giving me enough time to grab my towel and run.
My feet slap the floor as my hands frantically warp the towel around my body, not sure where I'll go.
If I go to a door, the alarm will go off, and maybe the neighbors will hear it, but I won't run through this neighborhood in nothing but a towel without some sort of weapon.
So I dart to the kitchen first, hoping to find a knife, and when I round the corner, Sonya's at the counter chopping vegetables. She looks up and her eyes go wide.
"Kira, what happened?" She stands immediately, toweling her hands off as she walks over to me. I frantically glance over my shoulder, afraid he's still coming but immediately feeling relief. If I tell her, will she even believe me?
"I slipped—" I spit out hastily, but I'm out of breath and shaking and water's still running down my body. "In the shower. I slipped and hit my head on the wall."
She continues toward me, pulling me into the light. "Let me see." She tilts my head forward and checks the back of my skull with gentle fingers. "There's a bump but no blood. How hard did you fall?"
"Hard enough." I force a laugh that sounds terrible even to me.
"I'm fine. I just panicked." The way my body shakes is more than just shivering from the cool air on my damp skin. How close I came to being assaulted, or worse, and I don’t even know who I can tell. Will Timur believe me if I tell him?
"Sit down. Let me get you some ice."
She pulls a chair out from the table and I sit, gripping the towel with both hands.
My throat is throbbing where his fingers were and I know there will be marks.
It'll back my story with Timur if he needs more proof than just my word.
He should know that his friend is a horrible man, more than a monster.
Sonya wraps some ice in a dish towel and holds it against the back of my head. "You have to be careful on that tile. I've told Timur a hundred times we need a bath mat in there."
"I know. I'm sorry," I sigh, letting my head drop, but movement in the hallway catches my eye.
Morin walks past the kitchen entrance, his gait stiff, one hand pressed against his belly.
He doesn't stop but he turns his head just enough to look at me as he passes, and his eyes lock onto mine for a full second.
Sonya doesn't notice. She's too busy fussing over the bump on my head and telling me to sit still. But I know what that look means, and I don't like it one bit. My time is running out. I have to convince Timur to side with me before Morin convinces him that I'm evil.
Or I may not have any breath in my body to convince anyone of anything.