Page 29 of Dark Truths

“Like what?”

“Like how and why they contacted him in the first place? Why did they order him to sell our drugs to the Ukraine?”

There’s a chance I can save Anton. Being an informant is riskier than an undercover agent’s job. I have the backing of an entire organization, while they typically have one or two agents who are likely to cut contact when things get tough. But if I can get Anton out of here, I can collaborate with Jacob to fake his death and give the man a chance to escape the Bratva.

“Wait…wa…it,” Anton says, his words mumbled and gurgled from the blood in his mouth. He raises his head with a painful groan before he looks from me to Igor. “I know…something.”

Cold dread settles over me, pouring down my spine to send chills everywhere.

“What?” Igor snaps.

“I’m not…a–alone…there’s someone…else.”

Igor spins away toward his brother, cursing and spewing venomous words in Russian. I ignore them though because when Anton looks at me; I see it. There, in his eyes. He knows. His last-ditch effort, his Hail Mary. Somehow, he knows I’m the other one. Why didn't he admit it earlier? Was he promised something to keep my identity quiet? Or maybe he really doesn't know, and I'm just anxious for no reason. Either way, when faced with the prospect of death, a person will say anything to save their life.

I hate this.

I hate the position Anton’s decision just put me in.

He’s left me with no other choice.

Before he can say another word, I aim my gun at Anton, catching the flash of terror overtake him when he realizes his mistake, and squeeze the trigger.

Gabriella is sleeping when I walk through her bedroom door. It’s late or is it early in the morning now? I have no idea and don’t really care. All I can concentrate on is the angel nestled among her ridiculous number of pillows and blankets and the overwhelming need to touch her.

I strip down to my boxer briefs before sliding beneath the covers. As if she subconsciously recognizes my presence, Gabriella shifts closer to me in her sleep. She’s on her stomach, her beautiful face turned toward me. A stray strand of hair falls across her face and I lift my hand to brush it away behind her back. My fingers then shift to caress her soft yet strong body, moving down her back to trace the line of her sleeping shorts before moving back up. I stroke her naked shoulder and down her arm and then I reach for her face, running my fingertips along her defined cheekbones and brow before tracing her lips. She’s already stirring, her mind processing that she’s no longer alone in bed.

Eyes of the most beautiful hazel open slowly. She blinks several times before realization takes over.

“Dimitri?”

“Hello, angel,” I murmur before leaning forward to kiss her fully awake.

She hums against my mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

She reaches up to grip my hand, bringing the pair close to her chest. “What time is it?”

“Late. Early. I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Gabriella hears the pain in my tone and sees the grief weighing heavy on me. “What happened?”

I can’t very well tell her I executed a man tonight to make sure my identity stayed secret. I can’t tell her how it felt, pointing my gun at a man just like me and how it felt to pull the trigger. I can’t tell her how if I’m not careful, it’ll be me next in the chair.

But I can tell her this.

“I killed a man tonight.”

She knows the life I lead. She knows the job I have. Crime is in her blood as much as it covers mine.

Still, she grows silent and stares down at our hands. Their clean now, but I wonder if she's imaging the blood of them.

“Say something, please.”

“Was he innocent?” Her voice is barely audible.

Was he? One could argue that he was on certain points.

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