Page 54 of How Much For a Life of Lies?

Yuri guided me… no, more like herded me… out of the room and down another corridor.

“I need fresh air,” I announced, and he pushed open the next door and stepped outside, widening the space to let me through. A cool breeze greeted me, and it was growing dark again, and I took a deep breath, allowing the crisp air to fill my lungs and clear my mind as I contemplated my next move. “You don’t have to watch me,” I said.

Yuri raised an eyebrow, then stiffened when something caught his eye behind me. I pivoted to check it out.

A man with slicked-back gray hair and a sharp suit moved toward me with the confidence of someone accustomed to command. Flanked by four new guards I hadn’t seen before, his presence commanded attention, and I felt a ripple of tension coursing through the air.

Kozlov was on-site.

Beside me, Yuri stiffened. “Stay quiet,” he warned under his breath, with Kozlov still thirty paces away.

“N’awww, it’s like you care,” I murmured, but Yuri didn’t react.

I felt a chill run down my spine as Kozlov’s icy stare bore into mine with an intensity that made it clear he was not a man to be trifled with. His lips curved into a sly smile, but a dangerous glint lurked beneath the surface, a silent warning of the consequences of crossing him.

“Moy ublyudok plemyannik,” Kozlov said to Yuri. I spoke enough Russian to curse, and I knew part of it was “bastard,” but the rest was lost.

“Dyadya,” Yuri replied, and nope, I didn’t know what that was at all, but I saw Yuri’s dead-eyed expression, and whatever word he said, it was heavy with contempt.

Kozlov snorted a laugh and said something to his closest guard, causing the man to chuckle.

Kozlov turned his attention to me. “And you replace useless dead pilot, yes?” His voice was smooth as silk but laced with an underlying threat. His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed hard, steeling myself under the weight of his scrutiny.

His mention of Viper sent a clear message: Viper had outlived his usefulness and knew too much. Ergo, dead.

“KD Raynes.” I met Kozlov’s gaze head-on and even offered my hand, which he ignored with a sneer.

“American,” he summarized.

“Canadian,” I corrected.

He stepped into my space, so close I could see a scar near his lip, and murder in his eyes. This was one time I needed to show respect to someone who hadn’t earned it, but fuck, I had my gun; he was a breath away, and two bullets between his eyes, and problem solved.

I’d be dead, but in the ledger of good versus evil, he was worth more to the world dead.

Of course, that also meant I wouldn’t get to talk to Zach about us, and I wasn’t going to risk losing that.

He drew a finger from my eye to my chin, then tipped my head to look up at him, a lascivious grin splitting his face.

“Chertovski khoroshen’kiy mal’chik,” he muttered.

I froze with indecision over who I should kill first.

Yuri shoved me aside, then moved between me and Kozlov, talking in rapid-fire Russian, gesturing at the ’korsky, and then at the storage area where they’d prepared the cargo for last night’s run. Whatever he was saying hit a nerve with our resident oligarch, who was red-faced. I watched the scene unfold, a knot of dread forming in my stomach. Yuri’s rapid-fire Russian exchange with Kozlov was unsettling, but when Kozlov snarled something back at him, Yuri’s sudden outburst sent shockwaves through the group.

He lunged forward, his grip on Kozlov tight and in an instant, the scene erupted into chaos as two guards seized Yuri by the arms, their iron grips restraining him with brutal force. A third guard delivered a barrage of blows, each strike landing with sickening thuds as Yuri was forced to his knees, blood flecking his face.

I tensed, desperate to help, but before I could take a single step, a firm hand clamped down on my shoulder, holding me back. I struggled in the grip, my gaze locked on Yuri’s plight, not knowing what the fuck was going on and powerless to intervene even if I could, or should. I mean, Yuri was a bad guy; Kozlov was a bad guy, as far as I was concerned, if the two went head-to-head, it was mutually assured destruction, and I hoped I wasn’t taken out as collateral.

Kozlov spat on the ground as Yuri stumbled to stand, but Yuri lifted his chin and met Kozlov’s stare with his own. Then Kozlov chuckled again—what was it with the bad guys and chuckling?—and patted Yuri on the face. I expected Yuri to lose his shit, but all he did was stand there and take the patronizing tap.

The hell?

Kozlov and his entourage headed inside, and I could follow them and get more intel, or stay out here and find out what the fuck had just happened.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked Yuri, who rubbed at his belly where he’d taken most of the punches.

“Pretty fuck boy,” he said, “I save.”

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