Page 42 of Vitaly

“He’s the one who found your location in Russia so the assassins could go after you.”

“I get it,” Vitaly snaps. My amusement at Vitaly having the nerve to ask about Alik slides, lowering the tilt in my lips. This is the first time he’s snapped at me. I didn’t realize until now that he hadn’t.

I search his face for the anger I heard in voice, but among the hardness, all I see is pain. Real pain in his eyes. Pain that cannot possibly be faked.

“Why does he matter to you?” I ask, my voice considerably lower.

Vitaly just stares out the windshield. I open and close my mouth, debating on whether or not to pry. Eventually, I face forward and let the silence consume us.

“You’re going to have to tell me where I’m going,” he says. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

Right.

I shift and lean toward the GPS to input the address to our first stop, a barber shop at the corner of Custard Street. Letting the female navigator do the talking, I lean back in my seat and watch the buildings pass when we reach the city.

It’s weird. Talking to Vitaly is the last thing I want to do, and yet, the silence isn’t pleasant either.

Why does he care about Alik?

Is he part of Vitaly’s plan? Does he need him?

“You didn’t get that bruise on your face from sparring, did you?” Vitaly asks, breaking the awkward silence. I already miss it.

“What would you like me to tell you?” I sigh. “I ran right into a doorknob. Came out of nowhere. I’m a clumsy, clumsy girl.”

“Does he usually hit you?”

“No,” I grind out. “Just when his dearest nephew comes to town.”

“He did it because I’m here?”

I turn to glare at Vitaly’s stupid, clueless expression. “You got another girl killed by borrowing her phone, but you thought?—”

“You didn’t help me,” he points out, as if it matters. “You tried tokillme.”

“But I didn’t finish the job, did I?”

Vitaly’s eyes widen as he turns to look at me for just a moment before he pulls the SUV into a gas station.

I sit up, my hand planting on the dash. “What are you doing? We have a schedule to keep.”

He ignores my concern, putting the car in park and turning to face me. “Are you saying Nikita hit you because you, a hundred-pound woman, did notsuccessfullykill me?”

My mouth opens with a scoff. “Okay, first of all, I weigh a hundred and twenty and you’re a condescending cocksucker. Secondly, he was seconds away from having his attack dog slit my throat when he got news that you were at his mansion. You made me look weak, and Nikita doesn’t tolerate weakness. If you fail, you die. That is how we, as a brotherhood you knownothingabout, stay strong.”

By the time the words are out of my mouth, my chest is heaving from the strong breaths I take through flared nostrils. Everything he says feels like a challenge. It’s all wrong. All insulting to me, my life, my dignity. I can feel my sensitivity, can feel my overreactions, but his lips moving is a trigger I just can’t stop reacting to.

Who cares if I’m a woman? I was acting as asoldier. I am anequal.

Nikita wouldn’t have hesitated to slice the throat of a man who let Vitaly get away. He would’ve tortured the man first, ripped out his nails, doneso much worse. I am grateful to my Pakhan for sparing my life, but it would have been insulting for him to treat me like what, avictim?

But he didn’t because he does not perceive me as the frail creature Vitaly sees. He views me as a woman,hiswoman. One who is capable of things, including letting him down. He showed me mercy; he gave me another chance. He may even give me a ring.

Vitaly… Vitaly never even gave me a second glance.

At this thought, I try to whip my gaze away, but something about the way Vitaly stares at me, so locked on, so curious, brings me back to him. He’s looking for something.

“What?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

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