Page 43 of Lethal Legacy

“Mr. Stevanovsky.” Her eyes glitter, not with tears, but with a strange kind of fire that sets my blood racing and makes me instantly hard. “I speak Russian,” she says in a deceptively calm tone. “Enough to read the same expat newspaper you do every morning. I know who you are. Not this,” she adds, gesturing around at my office. “Not Hale. I knowwhatyou are. And just so you know, I’ve met worse monsters than you. I’ve also outsmarted them.”

I’m stunned into silence. Actual silence. Not even Dimitry and his fucking nagging floored me quite this much.

And I donotlike the feeling.

Lucia takes a step closer to me. I can smell her sweet vanilla perfume, the faint hint of coconut in her hair.

“I truly am deeply grateful for all you’ve done. I’ll play by your rules, because that’s what I signed up to do. But there’s no amount of money, no contract, and no threat, that will stop me breaking them if I have to. As you said last night, we’ve both already crossed a moral line. You say that you know I’m living under an assumed name. Well—I know you’re bratva.”

She throws the word onto the table like a high roller placing a dangerous bid.

But if she thinks I’m going to react, she has no idea who she sat down to play cards with. I stare straight back at her.

“So how’s this for a verbal addition to our agreement?” She’s so close I can almost taste her, topaz eyes staring straight into mine. “You don’t go looking into my background. In return, I’ll abide to your contract by the letter, and pretend I don’t know what hides behind the Hale facade.”

I’m at a level of tension that isn’t just dangerous. It’s deadly. My fingers are itching to take hold of her and fuck every last ounce of resistance from her body.

Tonight, Miss Lopez, you’re going to find out exactly how high stakes our game really is.

For now, however, it’s my turn to call her bluff.

“This isn’t some kind of negotiation, Miss Lopez. You’ve already signed a contract.” I tear myself away from her with an effort and walk around the other side of my desk, eyeing her coldly. “There are no additions to be made to that, verbal or otherwise. Take it or leave it. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck which option you choose. But if you intend to honor it, you’d better get moving.” I look at my watch. “I’ll be back in the penthouse at seven this evening. I expect you to have made whatever arrangements you need to by then.”

She stares me down for a long moment, the color slowly mounting on her cheeks. An extremely tense silence is broken by Dimitry strolling in.

“Boss.” He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the look on my face, the envelope on my desk, and Miss Lopez’s stiff spine.

“I’ll come back,” he says, backing toward the door.

“No need,” I say icily. “Miss Lopez was just leaving.”

I take my seat and open my laptop, forcing myself not to look at the envelope. From my peripheral vision, I see a small hand reach out and pick it up. My flood of relief only makes me more furious.

“Seven p.m., you said.”

I don’t look up from the screen. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”

“So you said last night. And yet here we are.” My head jerks up in surprise. Her eyes are still glittering. “I’ll be there, Mr. Stevanovsky.” There’s just enough subtle emphasis on my name to remove any respect from the formality at all. “Let’s hope you’ve learned some manners by then.” Turning around, she stalks out of the room, perfect ass swaying that dress in a way that makes me grit my teeth.

Dimitry gives a low whistle as the door shuts behind her. “Holy shit,” he says, eyeing me with even more curiosity than he did earlier. “And you let her get away with that?”

“She’s just signed her life away,” I say brusquely, ignoring the rapid thudding in my chest. “She’s not getting away with a damn thing.”And after tonight, she’ll be walking differently, that much I can promise you.

I’m throbbing hard at the thought of it.

“You get what I asked for?”

“Got it.” Dimitry hands me a screwed tube with a long black strand inside it. “But that old man is sharp, Roman. It wasn’t easy dodging him. He watches everything from the window.”

And I have a funny feeling I know why.

So Miss Lopez knows I’m bratva, huh? That thought should horrify me. Instead, it intrigues me.

The pieces are coming together. I’m another step closer to knowing exactly who, and what, Miss Lopez really is.

And she’s about to discoverexactlywhat kind of monster I am.

I look at my phone.

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