Page 44 of Hers to Control

She immediately goes over to the ledge, but I don’t watch what she does. Instead, I stare at the door, ignoring the snorting sounds. After about a minute, I open the door and step out into the room, beer mug in hand. My knife is better, but I can still use this to hit someone over the head before I cut the next guy’s throat if I need to.

A look confirms that the guards are gone from the door. I make my way across the room, monitoring the crowd to see if anyone is paying special attention to me. They might not haveknown I was coming, but this is their turf, and it would be all too easy to set up a trap.

I reach the door and walk through. Nobody is waiting on the other side, so I make my way up the stairs and step into a hallway. Anya Tsepov’s voice calls from an open office. “In here.”

I enter the room, scanning it to find it empty except for Mikhail’s sister.

“What an honor,” Anya greets me, sarcasm dripping off her words. “Has my brother made you into his little bitch to use as an errand boy? I guess beingfamiliameans you do what you’re told even if it’s a Russian giving the orders.”

I raise my eyebrows at that. “You would know what that feels like, no? Doing what you’re told.”

A flash of anger shows on her pretty face, but disappears quickly. She points at the chair across from her. “Why are you here, Eric Merlino? And why isn’t Mikhail just calling me?”

Her words strike the uneasy feeling I’ve been trying to kick since deciding to come here. Gianna wouldn’t approve. Hell, I’d outright ignored her order to come back home.

Giving Anya a level look, I walk up to her desk as if I’m not bothered at all by being here. “I don’t know why your brother does what he does. I’m here to discuss your father abducting Mia Samson?”

Surprise flashes across Anya’s features, but she quickly schools her face. Not quickly enough, though. The desire to hurl my knife grows. Anya doesn’t know anything. Which means she’s no help to me.

“My father warned Mikhail this would happen. Instead of showing some loyalty, my brother chose to protect some no one.” Her accent thickens as anger seeps through her words and I get the sense the loyalty she’s talking about isn’t loyalty to the Bratva. Looks like Anya doesn’t like her brother choosing Mia over her. Not good. My one move was to play on the siblingrelationship to appeal to Anya to give us some info in hopes that she’d help her brother. Not that appealing is my preferred skill set. Nor does empathy seem to be Anya’s.

“Why isn’t Mikhail standing here instead of you?” Anya asks, her eyes narrowed.

I can’t answer that question, so I just stare her down and suddenly she’s smiling.

“I see.” She gets up off her chair and I realize belatedly that her staying seated was supposed to be some kind of power move. That political bullshit never worked on me and I don’t give a fuck now.

She paces a few steps around the desk. “My brother isn’t about to ask me for any favors anymore, and he wouldn’t send some errand boy. No, he doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

I stay silent. What’s the point in wasting words if she already knows the answer?

“In fact, I’m guessing Gianna Bruno doesn’t know either.” Anya tilts her head consideringly. “You were the one protecting the Samson girl at the safe-house, weren’t you?” A smile spreads over her lips and she chuckles. “Oh, this is too good. Don’t tell me you’re the one who knocked her up?”

I don’t answer, but Anya looks satisfied by my lack of response.

“Maybe I will help you. If Mikhail isn’t asking for this, I think I might just be in the mood. Thing is, Italian, you’ll owe me for this information.”

My jaw muscles hurt as I clench my teeth. “What do you want?”

Anya shakes her head. “Oh no. This will be a favor owed.”

“And how do you know I’ll keep my word once I have Mia safe?” I have to ask, because if she has no answer for this, I have no reason to trust that whatever information she might be able to give me is worth anything.

Anya chuckles. “Because if you don’t, I will let my brother and his bitch know that you’re not the good lap dog you’re supposed to be.”

Traitor. Gianna would know me as a traitor. For real, this time.

My fingers crack as I clench and stretch them. It’s a giveaway to Anya that she has me by the balls, but I need the release.

“Fine. How soon can you get me information on Mia?”

Whatever it takes.

Because Mia is mine.

Chapter Sixteen

Mia

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