Lev’s eyes are wide with horror as he realizes what’s about to happen. “No! No, please! I’ll do anything but?—”
The knife cuts through the air before he can finish, and the sound of it slicing through flesh is followed by Lev’s scream of agony. His pinky falls to the floor with a sickening thud, the blood pouring freely from the stump.
Lucky doesn’t even flinch. He watches Lev’s face contort in pain before stepping back.
“You’ll have two days, Lev,” Lucky says, his voice low and final. “Two days to get us what we need. Don’t make us come back here to remind you why we don’t play games.”
Lev cradles his hand to his chest, tears streaming down his face. “I won’t. I won’t forget. Please… no more.”
“Good,” I say, turning on my heel. “If you do, next time, we won’t be so lenient. Remember that.”
The door to the warehouse creaks open, and I glance over my shoulder to see Liam entering the room, his usual confident stride replaced with an edge I haven’t seen in a while. He scans the room quickly, his gaze briefly resting on Lev before locking onto me.
“What’s going on here?” Liam asks, voice tight with something I can’t place.
I don’t even try to hide my annoyance. “Where the hell have you been, Liam?” I ask, the words cutting through the air. “You’ve been absent for weeks. And now I need you to keep an eye on Lev here, and you're just showing up now?”
Liam’s jaw tightens at the sharpness in my voice, but his gaze is steady. He doesn’t flinch. “I’ve been busy,” he mutters, his tone flat.
“Well, you'd better clear your schedule. You’re on babysitting duty. Our friend Lev here needs a minder, and you picked the short straw.”
He glares at me for a moment, his eyes filled with a flicker of anger. “I’m not babysitting Lev. Especially not on Russian turf.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “Russian turf? What the hell are you talking about?”
Liam’s body language shifts, his eyes darkening, and for the first time, I see him hesitate. His posture is stiff, tense. “You heard me. I’m not stepping foot in Russian territory. Now or ever again.”
“What happened?” I ask, my voice quieter but no less demanding. “Why the hell would you refuse? You’re a damn enforcer, Liam. This isn’t like you.”
Liam’s lips tighten, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns sharply, a finality in his movements, his eyes avoiding mine. “I’m not going,” he mutters, then walks out of the warehouse without another word.
36
CLARY
The next few days are something of a blur as I get my application put together for the Langley Fashion Institute. It’s the best school in the tri-state area and allows for online learning so I wouldn’t even have to take time off when the baby comes.
I’m nervous, but Miranda and Ana have been on me about having more self-confidence, and even Rory has been texting encouraging messages when he’s not busy with work.
Rory: You got this, beautiful.
I stare down at the message from him from yesterday, a smile on my face. Things have still been going slow between us, mostly just a phone call here or a text message there, but it’s been nice. There’s something calming about the domesticity in our interactions. It feels as though we’re finally headed for something real.
Just as I’m putting the application in the post box down the road, I see Rory’s name flash across the screen on my phone.
“I just turned it in,” I say, excitement in my voice. I bounce on the balls of my feet, unable to contain my joy.
“Congratulations,” he says, his voice warm, fluid. It sends a tingle through me. “I know those committee people would be fools not to take you. I was thinking that maybe we could celebrate with another date?”
My heart skips. “A date?”
“Yeah, a date,” he replies, sounding a little unsure, but there’s that hint of hope I recognize in his voice.
“I’d like that,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips. “Tomorrow night?”
“I was thinking tonight, actually. Meet me at the penthouse.”
As usual, he seems to want to keep the location and activity a secret, so I agree and we hang up.