Page 26 of Trapping His Assassin

“Ok, so you know she’s a woman assassin, but do you know who she is?”

My ears perked up. I swung my gaze back on the man who was bleeding out of his hand profusely. Benedikt shook off whatever lingering darkness that had taken hold of him.

“Here, let me help you.” His jovial tone did not bode well for the man in front of us.

Benedikt grabbed the small portable blow torch. An excellent cauterizer of small wounds. The man let out a high-pitched scream, when my great uncle blew the torch across his finger stump.

“Now, who is Femme Fatale?” Benedikt purred when the screams died down, and there was only the sound of this guy’s heavy breathing.

“You’re going to kill me anyway. I shouldn’t tell you.”

I respected this man. He believed he would be kicked out, but perhaps we could come up with a more favorable solution.

“Normally, we would kill you,” Benedikt smirked. “But I like you, what’s the word for it? Ah! Moxie. I like your moxie.”

“So what are you going to do to me instead?” The man curved his hand protectively into his chest.

“Shipping you and your family to Russia. If you can be of some use to my nephew there, he will put you to work. If not–” Benedikt shrugged. “He’ll put a bullet in your head, and sell off your wife, while leaving your kids in the care of different boarding schools across the globe.”

Wow, split the whole family up with one horror or another. That was a way to instill fear into someone. I took some mental notes for future reference. Alexie liked to be hands-on in the torture of anyone he could.

Since his territory was small, it was few and far between. Now that he’s grown, and taken over the East Coast, there has been more need for bloodshed.

The man hung his head in defeat. “She’s the Don’s niece.”

Wait, the Don hadn’t told anyone he had a niece. Why hadn’t anyone known about it?

“Fuck,” Benedikt spit out.

I wished I could echo his sentiments. We may have started the war all on our own. Fuck was right.

CHAPTER NINE

Valentina

As consciousness slowly returned, I emerged from the depths of a murky abyss. My mind was muddled and heavy, as if shrouded in a dense fog. What did that asshole do to me?

I tried to move, but my limbs were uncooperative. I was fighting as if there were heavy chains on my arms and legs. My senses gradually awakened – an unfamiliar room painted in red didn’t comfort the chaos of my fragmented thoughts. I could feel the sunlight on my face as I tried to open my eyes wider, in hopes it would stop them from closing again.

As my vision cleared, I became aware that I was still fully dressed, lying on a large king-sized bed. Did I move rooms at the motel? But I would remember that, wouldn’t I? My frazzled mind slowly remembered the pieces I was missing.

I met Roman in person. Oh, my goodness, I met Roman Petrov. He fucked me. I could still smell him in my nostrils. All over my body. I could feel his hard, towering body against mine. He was fucking gorgeous, and so off-limits. He was the enemy of my family.

I frowned at that thought. It wasn’t the family I owed my loyalty to. It was the students at The Academy. My sisters are in everything but blood. I struggled to sit up, dizziness assailing my head. I bolted off the bed, uncaring of my state, and stumbled to the nearest door.

I was a lucky bitch indeed, because it opened to a bathroom. I scurried inside and sank to my knees in front of the porcelain bowl. I hacked, coughed, and wheezed everything that was in my stomach, which wasn’t much.

My stomach growled, as I hadn’t had a chance to eat while I was busy trying to locate Roman Petrov. At least, that’s what I believed I was doing. But it turned out, he was the one trailing me all this time. After the wave of nausea subsided, I struggled to stand on wobbly legs, and leaned against the wall until I could make my way to the sink.

I rinsed my mouth, snooping through the cabinets and finding a toothbrush along with toothpaste. I brushed the foul remnants of sickness out of my mouth, and walked slowly back into the room.

I assessed my current surroundings. I found myself surprised as I patted my body down to see if they’d assaulted me. My weapons were still attached to my person, their familiar heft providing a small measure of reassurance. The fact that they hadn’t been taken away only amplified my wariness and apprehension.

They were going to kill me, weren’t they? Then why didn’t they take my knives and gun from me?

I was packing light.

I shifted my gaze to the door on the opposite wall. The soft sheets and plush pillows beckoned me, tempting me to stay a little longer. But I knew I couldn’t give in to the comfort. It was time to face whoever was holding me captive. My handinstinctively reached for my weapons. Curiosity and fear warred within me, as I plotted my next move.

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