Page 114 of Kings of Violence

I laugh.

“But that’s fine. Because I don’t need either of you. I can get out of this on my own.”

I don’t want Silvano’s help.

I don’t want Kyran’s help.

Ma has plenty of money tucked away. All I have to do is get to her before Konstantin, and we can go on that European vacation she’s always wanted — hopping from one country to the next before we can be easily traced.

Yeah.

I can take care of my fucking self.

Kyran tries to grab me, but he isn’t faster than Yuri had been. I duck away and run to the door, not daring to look back.

The ballroom is a lot emptier now than before. I rush along the wall, until I get to the service door I’d seen before. Through a stroke of luck, the guard is distracted with one of the caterers, so I slip inside.

Let Kyran try to follow me in here.

The room leads to a large kitchen, and I duck into the pantry before one of the caterers spots me. I slide to the floor and bury my face in my knees.

Fuck.Fuck.

I’d been planning this escape for weeks. All my secret messages to Kyran and Silvano. All the small misdirections, all the stalling. All the lies, and enduring Konstantin and Yuri and Nikolai’s hands on me.

Their attempts to get me pregnant.

Reminding myself that the pleasure is temporary, and not to fall for their charms.

This is pointless. They won’t want to deal with me anymore anyway. Yuri already half hated me before all this. Nikolai clearly resents my presence. And Konstantin can easily find himself some other woman to carry his child.

I clutch the small storage device tighter and shuffle closer to the pantry door so I can listen for an opening.

There are muffled voices on the other side, but they’re deep men’s voices, getting heated with each other. I can’t make out what they’re saying.

The smart play is to stay perfectly still and wait until they’re gone.

I’ve never been particularly smart when it comes to my curiosity.

I bite my lip and very carefully turn the door handle so I can open the pantry just a fraction.

“ —didn’t plan for an extra person to be there! And he’s fucking huge!”

“Just fucking take care of it. Everybody in that room gets a glass, Don’s orders.” The man lets out a disgruntled sound. “Aren’t you a fucking professional?”

“Yes, which means I know how important the dose is.” This second man lets out a long sigh. “Whatever. I’ll do it, but if it fails, it’s on you, not me.”

“No way. You’re the professional?—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, shut up, Dan. It’s like you want the catering staff to hear you.”

The two get closer to the pantry. I swallow hard and scoot away from the small opening in the pantry door.

I don’t dare breathe.

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as I wait for them to walk on.

One heartbeat.

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