Page 56 of His Hold

“Don’t.” I cut her off. “Don’t try to twist this into some kind of sick confession. You killed my boss, and all this time you’ve been acting like you couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“And I don’t regret it. Dmitri was a monster,” she spits. “He recruited girls like Irina. Young, desperate girls who didn’t know any better. He was the one who pulled her into this world. Your precious boss was nothing but a predator hiding behind power.”

“And that makes you what? A saint? A hero?”

“No. It makes me someone who tried to do something. Who didn’t just sit back and accept it.” Her eyes blaze. “You want to be angry at me? Fine. Be angry. But don’t pretend you care about Dmitri. This isn’t about him. This is about the fact that I never told you. That I lied.”

My grip tightens just enough to remind her who’s in control. Who holds the power here. “You lied about everything. I opened myself to you, Katya. I—”

Don’t fucking say it.

“I didn’t lie about everything. Not about what I feel for you. Not about what we—

“I don’t give a damn about whatever excuse you’re about to spit out.” Complete lie. “The only thing I want—what I’m fucking demanding—is every last shred of what went down, every step that led you to Dmitri crossing your path. Don’t you even dream of skimping on the truth, because I’m this goddamn close to snapping. So you’re gonna play nice, be my good girl, and spill every fucking word. No half-truths. No omissions. Right. Fucking. Now.”

My grip tightens. “And when you’re done? I’m going to fuck you. That sweet pussy of yours is gonna pay for every lie that mouth’s been feeding me, I’ll make you come so hard and so many times you forget everything but me. Until I’ve wrung every last drop of your fucking soul out of you. Until I’m fucking satisfied.”

Chapter 17

Katya

Nikolai’s rage is a living thing. It’s there in the way he leans over me, his shoulders tight, eyes cold and waiting for me to lie. But I won’t.

He’s holding me against the wall, his grip firm but not cruel. My neck throbs where his fingers pressed, like a warning he never intended to give. His words slice through me, every syllable coated in anger and something worse—betrayal.

“So you’re gonna play nice, be my good girl, and spill every fucking word. No half-truths. No omissions. Right. Fucking. Now.”

I try to breathe through the ache in my throat. I try to ignore the way my body wants to shrink away from him, even as my mind is screaming that I need to make him understand. I don’t look at him when I start talking. It’s easier to pretend I’m not exposing my whole damn soul this way.

“Dmitri,” I force the name out. “He was recruiting for Kirill’s Bratva. One of the key figures, actually. The man who brought in desperate girls and sold them dreams until they were too deep to crawl back out. That’s how he found Irina.”

Nikolai’s eyes flicker, but he stays silent. Waiting.

“I spent months piecing it all together. Following leads, bribing people who’d worked for him. Dmitri’s name came up over and over. But he was paranoid, always kept himself locked away unless he was indulging in his vices.”

“What vices?”

“Underground parties. High-profile gatherings for criminals and businessmen.” I push the words out. “I paid my way in. Posed as an escort under a fake name. Alina.”

The shift in his expression tells me he recognizes the name.

“Alina Petrov’s death was pretty popular back then, after it was said she broke up with her Arab prince boyfriend. She was always in a hijab, so no one really saw her face. I thought it’d rattle him. And it did.”

“So you baited him.”

“Yes.” I swallow, my mouth dry. “For weeks, I kept up the act. Showed up at every one of those damn parties, pretending to be exactly what he wanted. The young, estranged widow whose daddy never let out. Charming. Vulnerable. Willing to do anything for safety. The kind of girl who’d beg for protection and pay for it in loyalty. The kind of girl he preyed on.”

“And he believed it?”

I nod. “I guess he must have done his research obviously, and found out who I really was, but he didn’t care. I was just a girl after all, and he still wanted to fuck me. He took me back to his mansion one night. Thought he’d finally broken me. Thought he’d finally won me over.”

A muscle ticks in Nikolai’s jaw. “Did he touch you?”

“No.” I hold his stare, refusing to let him look away. “I poisoned his drink. Something slow-acting. Enough to make him weak, but not kill him. And then I demanded answers about Irina.”

“Did he give you any?”

“No.” My voice trembles, but I press on. “He laughed. Called her just another lost girl. Easy to recruit. Easy to break.”

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