Page 117 of No Promises, No Lies

I lift my chin, breathing in deep as stormy blue eyes inspect me, locking me in. I can’t look away. The color so similar to his sister’s—my heart constricts at the reminder of Rory.

Niko’s hands slip into his pockets as he moves casually into the room, looking over the selection of torture tools hanging on pegs along the wall. He turns to face me, staring into my eyes for a long second before stepping forward, pulling a wicked-looking knife out of his pocket.

Niko Kostalov has a reputation for the things he does with that knife.

I sit still, refusing to look away as he approaches. I swear there’s a slight flash of amusement in his eyes before it’s gone, making me think I imagined it.

He brings the sharp knife up to my face and I feel the warm metal scrape against my cheek. I let out a breath, and with it, the dirty white cloth falls from my mouth.

Stunned, I stare at the fabric, now strewn on the concrete floor, before looking back up at Niko. He’s retreated a few feet. Watching me intently, he leans up against the cell’s wall.

“What’s your game with my sister?”

Whatever it was I expected him to say… that was not it and so I hesitate for a second before I respond, “I’m not playing any games when it comes tomy wife.”

Niko’s eyes narrow at my choice of address for Rory, but I just glare back at him.

“Why didn’t you give her back this time?” The Russian heir uncrosses his arms, absently playing with the knife in his hands. “Like last time… could’ve saved your own skin.” He points his blade at me, “We’ll kill you for this.”

“I know,” I clip out, “but I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it.” Testing my restraints again while Niko watches.

“And what promise is that?”

“To protect her.” My eyes flash. “To keep her safe… to keep her far away from you,” I scowl at him.

“You think she needs protection from her family?” Niko growls out, circling me. The sound of his boots echoes through the dark space.

“I know she does.”

“Tell me where she is.” He stops circling me, blue eyes gleaming.

“No.” My jaw locks and I watch fire ignite in Niko’s eyes. The same way it does in his sister’s when she gets angry.

He steps toward me, leaning in. Bringing his knife—not to my throat—but to my stomach, threatening to gut me and leave me here to die—slowly. “You’d rather die than tell me where she is, puck boy? Give up all those hockey dreams, leave your brothers and sister behind?”

My jaw ticks at the mention of my family, but I trust Koen with their lives, even if I’m not around to help. “Looks like it.” I steel my spine, keeping my eyes on the Bratva underboss as he digs his knife in between two ribs and I feel blood pour from where the tip has broken skin.

“Last chance,” he mutters, frustration breaking through his icy fury.

I snap my jaw shut and bring my eyes up to his. Calmly waiting for him to push in the rest of his blade. To gut me like he’s been dying to do for years.Stormy blue… so much like his sister’s. But the cut doesn’t come. Niko doesn’t remove the blade from my abdomen, either.

Instead, he looks pissed off, staring down at me in obvious frustration. When he finally moves, he moves quickly, slashing at the ropes binding my wrist. One pass tears the rope clean through and he moves on to the other side.

Confused, I watch him warily. My eyes flicker back over to the display of torture tools but then Niko pockets his knife.

“She loves you too, you know.”

I don’t say anything, looking between Niko and the open door behind him, wondering what the fuck is going on…

Niko sighs, “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

I stare at him, my mind working.He knew.There was only one way for Niko to know what’s between Rory and me is real. My blood turns to ice and I lunge for him, slamming him up against the stone walls, my arm up against his windpipe.

“Where is she?”

“Where is my wife?” I demand, my jaw tightening… already knowing the answer before he sighs, opening his mouth…

“Upstairs.”

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