Page 174 of Emerald Malice

Without warning, the door unlocks. A man strolls in like it’s any other day. He’s tall and broad-shouldered…

And strangely familiar.

“I’ve seen you before.” My voice is hoarse, and I cough. How long have I been here? “Where have I seen you before?”

He grabs a chair along the wall and slides it closer to me. Swinging it around, he straddles it backward and crosses his arms over the top.

“You don’t remember?” He sounds almost disappointed. “I’m offended. I thought I made an impression. A couple of them, actually.”

I take him in again—strong, pointed jaw; hooked nose; bright, hazel eyes. I shake my head, the answer coming to me but still not making any sense. “You’re the guy… the guy who spilled our drinks at Burning Bird.”

His grin makes me shiver. “A first impression is hard to undo. I guess I bought you and Katya those drinks for nothing.” He shrugs, an easy smile on his face. “I’m not usually that clumsy. I was just so eager to meet you, Natalia.”

My body is cold, goose-pimpled with dread. “You’re Nikolai Rostov.”

He’s like an optical illusion in front of me. I tell myself there’s no way, but the moment the words are out of my mouth, I can’t see anything else.

He is Nikolai Rostov—and he’s been here the whole time.

His smirk only gets wider. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kuznetsov.”

“What did you do to my bodyguards?” I spit. “And my dog?”

And Andrey. Where’s Andrey? And Mila… Katya… Misha…

The faces of the people I love flicker like a slideshow through my mind, and I grow colder as each one passes.

“I don’t know about the bodyguards, to be honest,” Nikolai answers with a neutral shrug. “I can tell you the dog isn’t dead, though. I don’t kill animals if I can avoid it. Nasty business, that.”

“But killing people is okay with you?” I hiss, unable to contain my disgust. “Selling women and children is just fucking dandy, but animal cruelty is where you draw the line? Am I hearing that correctly?”

“You’re a lot feistier than I anticipated. I can see why you managed to make an impression on Andrey.” He studies me closely. “Why you’re with that asshole, however, I’ll never understand.”

“He’s no asshole, Nikolai Rostov. You are.”

“I’m sure you believe that. He’s probably spent a lot of time filling your head with lies.”

“You don’t sell women and children, then?”

For a fraction of a second, the most terrifying, inhuman rage I’ve ever seen flies across his face. One blink later, it’s gone. His face falls into somber lines—the very picture of sadness.

I don’t trust it for a second.

“You don’t know me, Natalia. You know only the sick, twisted version of me that Andrey has fed you. He’s painted me out as the villain, but all I am is a son—a son trying to avenge his parents.” I frown, and Nikolai jumps on my confusion. “He’s left that part out of the story, has he, pretty lamb?”

Humming under his breath, he rises and circles behind me. I stiffen when I hear the unmistakable shiiink of a blade being unsheathed.

He bends low, and I’m waiting for the blade to press to my neck. For this nightmare to end in blood and darkness.

Then the ties around my wrists and ankles fall loose. Blood rushes back into my extremities, and I damn near moan with relief.

Nikolai saunters back around and reclaims his seat, tucking the knife away out of sight. “I’m not a bad man, Natalia. Far from it.” He eyes me carefully. Sizing me up, maybe, though God only knows why. “I know about your parents. About how they died… Do you still love them?”

I scowl at him. He has no right to talk about my family, but what choice do I have other than to play along? “You don’t just stop loving people just because you lose them.”

The hazel in his eyes melts and boils. I swear there are demons in him begging to come out.

He once again clears his throat and looks human once more. “I can’t say I ever felt the same about the people who birthed me. They made it very clear that they loved drugs more than me.”

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