Page 57 of Disguised as Love

“This svoloch isn’t who he says he is, Raisa. Shoot him.”

My heart fell. Had he figured out that Cruz was an FBI agent? If he had, I doubted he would have come this close to him. He would have shot him from a distance?or had his men finish him.

Cruz laughed. It was harsh and cold instead of warm like I’d heard him laugh with me. It reminded me of the duality of his life. Of mine.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Cruz asked, and one of his hands surrounded Damien’s neck as it had mine moments ago. But there was no heat to this one. This was deadly. Damien was not a small man. He had his own wall of muscle, and he struggled against Cruz, but he still met with little success.

“It means”?Damien gasped as the pressure on his throat grew?“that before three years ago, Antonne Woods didn’t exist. So, who the fuck are you? U.S. Feds? Interpol?”

Finally, Ilia joined us, holding the back of his head as if he’d been hit from behind. He was as pissed as Cruz looked. Ilia tugged the weapon from my grip, and I let him because I knew I could trust him even if I couldn’t believe in anyone else. Ilia and Cruz exchanged a look.

“Who have you told?” Cruz demanded, fingers tightening again on Damien’s throat so I could now see an indentation and hear the wheeze in Damien’s breath. My entire body trembled.

Damien didn’t reply, and Ilia shoved the gun he’d retrieved from me into Damien’s cheek. “Answer the question.”

As if materializing from the shadows, a woman appeared, bleached hair short and spiked, dark eyes that flashed with deadly calm. She was dressed in black from head to toe, much like Cruz had been the day he’d arrived on my doorstep. Her gracefully rounded eyes were framed in stunning lashes that I could see even in the shadowy depths of the rooftop.

“Get Raisa out of here,” Cruz commanded the woman as if he knew her. As if he trusted her with my life.

The woman hesitated before nodding and pulling my arm.

“Get your shoes. Let’s go,” she said. Her English was almost as perfect as mine, but it still told the story of her Japanese upbringing just like mine gave away my Russian childhood.

I didn’t move.

“Go.” It was Ilia who insisted rather than Cruz, and that had me darting my eyes to his. “You must go, Ms. Leskov.”

“What are you going to do?” I breathed out, my body trembling now from so much more than the cold.

“I’m not going to kill him, even if he would have killed me, you, and anyone else in his way,” Cruz said. It brought my gaze back to his face. It was still shuttered. But I could see the fury in his eyes, and I suddenly realized he wasn’t just furious with Damien. He was furious with himself. For what he’d told me while lying on the floor in my bedroom the night before. He’d lost his focus. And it could have cost him his life just like it had his father.

Regret filled me. For making him relive that moment and for being the cause of it whether I’d done it on purpose or not.

I turned and picked my way back across the rooftop to the seat where I’d left my boots. I shoved my feet in them, zipped them up, and headed into the lift with the woman at my side. When I went to push the button and code for the penthouse, her hand stilled mine.

“No. The garage.”

I did what she asked because the truth was, I didn’t know what else to do.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter. Malone trusts me. You can as well.”

I let my gaze wander over her, and that was when I saw the tip of the knife peeking out of her boot and inhaled sharply. She was the one who’d gotten into the penthouse and cut Yano. She’d cut his throat for Cruz. There was so much more going on here than I could even fathom.

“It was you. With Yano,” I said quietly.

She shifted uncomfortably. “Stop talking.”

The doors opened into the garage in the basement, and she held me back while she looked into the silent space that smelled of oil and exhaust. Then, she led me out, weaving me through cars instead of taking a direct path. We ended up at a small, beat-up Lada that had probably existed in the Soviet era. She opened the driver’s door, got in, and reached over to unlock the passenger door for me.

I slid in. The vinyl seats were cracked and torn with the stuffing showing.

She shifted the manual vehicle into reverse and was speeding out of the garage and onto the street before I’d barely buckled my seat belt. We made it across the Palace bridge just before it started to raise behind us. The cheering outside on the street echoed through the car as the tourists took in the giant expanse rising into the night sky.

Cruz had missed it.

I wondered how many other things in his life he’d missed while doing his job, and then I tried to harden my heart. It didn’t matter. I had to remember the reasons I was here: bury my father, find out who was behind his death, and get Mama the hell out.

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