Page 59 of Perfect Stalker

“You little—” He wheezes, his face contorted in pain and fury.

I don’t stick around to hear more. I’m turning to flee when a cruel laugh cuts through the air, freezing me in place. My gaze darts to the source, and I see a man stepping from the shadows. He’s tall, with sharp features that bear a striking resemblance to the boy in the photo with Ivan from the orphanage. This must be Alexei.

“You call this handling a woman?” Alexei sneers, his disdain for Stephen evident in every syllable. Before I can process what’s happening, he motions to his men. Rough hands grab my arms, restraining me.

I struggle against their grip, but it’s useless. They’re too strong. “Let me go.” I twist in their grasp, but I’m not match for their brute strength.

Alexei approaches, raking his gaze over me with cold calculation. He reaches out, brushing my hair aside in a mocking caress. “So, this is Ivan’s weakness,” he says, his voice dripping with contempt. “How...disappointing.”

I glare at him, channeling all my fear into anger. “I’m not anyone’s weakness.”

He laughs again, but the sound is devoid of any real mirth. “Oh, but you are, my dear, and how easily you were caught. Ivan must be slipping.”

His arrogance ignites something in me. I draw myself up as much as I can in the men’s grip. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but his words are drowned out by a sudden eruption of gunfire. The warehouse explodes into chaos. Glass shatters, bullets ricochet off metal, and shouts fill the air.

I react on instinct, dropping to the ground and rolling away from Alexei’s men in their moment of distraction. My heart pounds while I crawl behind a stack of crates, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Through the haze of gun smoke, I see figures moving. Alexei’s men are engaged in a firefight with...Ivan’s people? Hope surges through me, quickly tempered by the realization that I’m caught in the middle of a war zone.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I whirl around, ready to fight, but it’s Stephen, his face pale with fear.

“We have to get out of here,” he says, tugging at my arm.

I jerk away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t be stupid, Jenny. This is our chance to?—”

His words cut off as Alexei appears, pointing his gun at me. “Get up.”

Reluctantly, I get to my feet as Stephen follows suit. When we’re standing, Stephen steps between us, but it’s merely to grab me roughly. “I’m taking her. You said I could have her,” he says, sounding petulant.

Alexei hesitates for a moment before lowering the gun. “Do what you wish with her, but it has to be here. There can be no loose ends,” he says coldly, his gaze locked with mine. “There will be a body to show Ivan and completely destroy him.”

Stephen grumbles but grabs my arm, dragging me into a nearby room. It’s cooled, and there are stacks of boxes and supplies. I shiver as he closes the door. The frigid air of the refrigerated room seeps through my thin dress as he advances on me, his eyes wild with a mixture of desire and rage. My heart flutters rapidly as adrenaline surges through my veins.

“He promised I could keep you.” Stephen backs me against a stack of crates. “I won’t give you back.”

He lunges forward, trying to pin me with his body. I twist away, my heels making me skid on the slick floor. “Stephen, stop this,” I shout, my voice echoing in the confined space.

He grabs for me again, managing to snag my wrist. I cry out as he yanks me toward him while tangling his other hand in my hair. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that piece of shit’s name.”

“Impossible. There’s nothing you could do to me that would make me forget Ivan.” I struggle against his grip, desperately trying to keep my lower body away from his. Ivan’s self-defense lessons flash through my mind once more.Use their momentum against them.

As Stephen tries to force his lips on mine, I suddenly go limp. He stumbles forward, caught off-guard by the sudden lack ofresistance. In that split second, I drive up my knee—not between his legs this time, but into his solar plexus.

The air whooshes out of him, and his grip loosens. I wrench free, but my victory is short-lived. My heel catches on an uneven patch of floor, and I go down hard on my side, landing mostly on my hip and not my stomach, since I manage to twist at the last moment. The impact knocks the wind out of me.

Before I can scramble to my feet, he’s on me. We grapple on the cold floor, rolling and thrashing. His weight pins me down, and panic claws at my throat. I can’t let him win. I can’t.

My fingers scrabble for purchase, finding his face. Without hesitation, I dig my nails in, aiming for his eyes. Stephen howls in pain and rears back. I push up, trying to throw him off, but he’s too heavy.

Suddenly, the door flies open with a resounding crash. A familiar silhouette fills the doorway, and my heart leaps. “Ivan,” I cry out, relief and terror warring within me.

Stephen’s head whips around, his face contorted with fury and fear. For an instant, he freezes, caught between fight and flight. Then, with a snarl of desperation, he lunges at me again.

“No,” I scream, clawing at his face as he bears down on me.

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