Page 59 of Cruel Longing

Ciro reached in his pocket. I gasped when he flicked his wrist and a blade appeared. He stepped toward me. It wasn’t the time to show fear or to consider letting it take up residence. I wanted this. Demanded it. I trusted Luka when he said the device was dangerous and had been compromised. I inhaled, tilting my head back and to the side.

Ciro pressed the tip of the blade against my skin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I gritted my teeth together.

He jabbed the end of the knife just under my skin and jutted it upward quickly. I grimaced when I felt the blood trickle against my collarbone.

“It’s out,” he reported.

I carefully sat in my chair, feeling dizzy from the abruptness of having the chip removed. Ciro stood in front of me. He handed me a handkerchief from his pocket. I pressed it against my neck to stop the bleeding. He placed the bloody chip on the corner of my desk. It was small. Smaller and more square than my pinky nail.

“I need to go to France.”

I looked up at him. “Fine.” I didn’t feel like arguing.

“I don’t like this. I’d feel better if I was leaving knowing you weren’t going to see him.”

I pulled the handkerchief from my neck. It was sopped with blood, but it seemed as if it had finally stopped. I searched in mydesk drawer for a band-aid. I usually kept one or two in case of a high heel blister emergency.

“Let me.” Ciro took the bandage and unwrapped the paper. He leaned over me and fixed the sticky ends to my skin. “You have blood on your dress.”

“Shit,” I whispered. “I’ll have to change.”

“Do you want me to go back to the house before I leave for the airport?”

“What? You’re flying to France today?”

He nodded. “I can’t spare any time. I hope I’m back in three days.”

“Just like that?” I felt an eerie sensation. The last time Ciro had left the city was the week before my father died. The same time I was kidnapped. He hadn’t left my side since. Why did I suddenly feel uneasy? He wasn’t going to find dirt on Luka. I was in confident in that. But Ciro was a consistent part of my life, even if he lived it in the shadows.

“I don’t see another way.”

“What do I do for security while you’re in France?” I asked.

“I do have a plan.”

“Then let’s hear it.”

Twenty-Seven

LUKA

More had happened in the last week of my life than had happened in the past year combined. I had flown across the ocean for my father’s funeral. I had taken the reins as the head Pakhan of the Novikov organization. I had learned my sister was likely going to get us all killed with her affair. I had sabotaged the love of my life. Then, won her back. I had learned the horrors of the past five years. Stopping to have lunch with my best friend hadn’t been on the agenda. But where I could make business intersect I did.

Mikhail was late for lunch as usual.

“Hey, man.” He stopped in front of the table. I stood to shake his hand and give him a slap on the back. “Glad you called me.”

“Me too. Sit. Sit.” I motioned for Mikhail to join me.

“I haven’t heard from you since the funeral.” He took a big gulp of water. “What are we drinking?”

“Anything you want, friend.” I grinned.

“I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you’re having.”

I waved our waitress over to the table and ordered two bourbons.

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