Page 17 of Bluff

“Belyaev.” Jimmy takes a shuddering breath.

He goes on to explain how and why he killed Aleksei’s father. When he coughs again, blood dribbles from his mouth. He’s dying.

“Sokolov because he was getting too close to me.” My chest heaves. Mikhail’s father. “Killed him myself.” His laugh is bitter as he looks at someone off screen. “Wife was a hot piece of ass.”

I gasp, and tears roll down my face.

The man is pushed aside, and Mikhail is standing there. The screen goes black, but a gunshot sounds.

I scream and jump up from the chair. I take off running. I run past my guards, and they try to stop me, but I don’t stop.

I can’t believe Jimmy was a rapist. My father was one of those sick men who violate women’s bodies.

I’m running down the street when I’m lifted up by arms I recognize. His expensive cologne and scent of coffee creeps over my senses.

“Zayka,” he calls me the nickname I haven’t heard from his lips in days, but it doesn’t stop the screams and cries of pain spilling from my mouth.

“He raped her. He raped her,” I chant over and over.

I hear other voices, but nothing breaks through the fog of pain.

Mikhail

I ignore the guards and Andrei as I take her home. She fights me, but I keep moving forward, knowing what she needs.

I kick the door closed behind us and lock it before heading upstairs. I’ve avoided her because I thought that’s what she needed. But while working at Andrei’s house today, I watched her on the hidden cameras.

My body craves hers, and it was as if I knew she was getting ready to run.

When I heard she took off running from Lyric and Alek’s house, I was shocked. It was too brazen. But then I saw her—the pain, the screaming, the words. In that moment, I knew what she had found out.

I’ve suspected for a long time that my girl had suffered, but she never mentioned it, and we didn’t talk about it. I didn’t see it in her files, but it explains so much. Her need to run, her need for revenge. My need to protect her overcame me, and I can no longer keep her at arm’s length. I have to have her, and she needs me.

I lower her to our bed and stretch out over her body. I reach up into the headboard and pull the cuffs from their hiding spot. Carefully, as she fights me, I shackle each wrist.

Once she’s strapped to the bed, she slowly starts to calm. But her eyes still have a wild look to them, so I collar her neck with my hand. My long, tattooed fingers on one side, my thick thumb on the other. Her body stills completely. Her eyes stare into mine. I can see the pain, feel it as if it were my own.

“He raped your mother,” she says, the words torn from her soul. I see my pain reflected back at me. “You killed him because he raped your mother.” It’s not a question, but I still answer her.

“Da.” It’s simple. It’s all I can say.

“How could he do that? Why? What was his reason?”

“He didn’t say. But he told me he was hired to kill them both and rape her.”

“What?” Her body convulses.

“Tell me, zayka. Tell me what happened.”

“I couldn’t stop myself. I saw the file on Lyric’s computer and opened it.”

“Nyet, not that. Tell me what happened to you.”

Her eyes grow distant, and I lean down to take her lips. Kissing her like I’ve wanted to for days. Weeks. Months even.

Her tongue slips out and plays with mine. I release the hold I have on her neck as I dominate her mouth. She moans and moves against my body. My cock is hard and thick behind the fly of my slacks.

Reaching behind me, I pull one of my fixed-blade knives from my back. I set it next to me on the bed and sit up over her body, straddling her.

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