Page 107 of Doomed
I nod, raising my pistol. The corridor stretches before us, doors lining both sides. Somewhere behind one of them is Bianca—my Bianca. The thought sends fresh rage coursing through my veins, but I channel it, turning it into laser focus rather than chaos.
I approach the first door, Landon at my six, his weapon trained on the hallway behind us. Nothing will stop me from finding her. Nothing.
The second room is empty, just like the first. I move cautiously down the hallway when I hear movement behind the third door. My heart rate kicks up as I test the handle—locked. I signal to Landon, who nods and positions himself.
One silent count. Two. Three.
I drive my boot into the door beside the lock, splintering the wood. As it crashes open, I sweep into the room, weapon raised.
And there she is.
Bianca stands in the center of the room, wild-eyed and determined, clutching what looks like a metal pen, her grip tight between her white knuckles. Her hair is disheveled, her cheek marked with a smudge of dirt, but she’s alive and seemingly unharmed.
She barrels toward me with surprising speed, makeshift weapon aimed at my throat, before her eyes register who I am and she notices my mask. She freezes mid-stride, the improvised weapon extended.
“Knox?” she whispers.
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I lower my gun and raise an eyebrow at her. “Were you planning to take down the Russian mob with a pen, princess?”
She drops her arm, breathing hard. “I wasn’t going to wait around to be rescued. I had a plan.”
“I can see that,” I say, tucking my pistol away. “Very impressive. But why would you think you need to fight your way out when I’ll always come for you?”
My tone breaks through her adrenaline-fueled bravado. Her face crumples, and she lets out a choked sob. The pen clatters to the floor as she rushes forward, practically throwing herself into my arms.
I catch her, wrapping her tightly against my chest, burying my face in her hair, and breathing in her scent. My arms tighten around her, one hand cradling the back of her head.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispers against my neck, her tears warm against my skin. “But I was so scared.”
I pull back enough to look at her, my hands searching urgently. “Did they hurt you? Where?” My fingers trace her arms, shoulders, scanning for injuries, my eyes following the path of my hands.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, but I need to see for myself.
I run my palms down her sides, feeling for broken ribs or hidden injuries. My touch starts clinical, but it soon shifts as I feel her warm. My breathing changes.
“Knox, I’m fine,” she insists, but her voice catches when my hands slide lower, cupping her hips.
“You’re mine,” I growl, my fingers digging slightly into her flesh. The relief of finding her unharmed collides with the possessive hunger that’s never far below the surface. “I need to make sure every part of you is perfect.”
My hand slides up to her face, thumb tracing her lower lip. She trembles, pupils dilating as her breath comes faster. Theadrenaline of the rescue, the proximity of danger just beyond these walls—it all amplifies what’s always between us.
“I thought I might lose you,” I admit, pressing my forehead against hers. One hand slides beneath her hair, gripping the nape of her neck. “I can’t?—”
She cuts me off with a desperate kiss. I respond instantly, backing her against the wall, pinning her with my hips. My hand finds her thigh, hiking it up against my side as a growl builds in my chest.
“For fuck’s sake,” Landon’s exasperated voice breaks through. “While this reunion is touching, we have approximately three minutes before the entire security team realizes we’re here.”
I pull back just enough to look at Bianca’s flushed face, her swollen lips. “To be continued,” I promise, my voice rough. She’s still in those silk ribbons; fucker didn’t even give her clothes. I yank my hoodie over my head, “Arms up. You’re not leaving this room without wearing some kind of clothing. I swear I’m going to skin this asshole alive.” She does as she’s told, and although it swallows her whole, her entire body is now covered, all the way to her knees.
Landon clears his throat. “If you two are quite finished, I’d prefer not to die in a Russian mansion tonight.”
“At least I’d die happy with my woman in my arms,” I fire back at Landon, keeping Bianca pressed against my side. “Which is more than I can say for you, Brother.”
Landon rolls his eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of his head. “Your romantic death wish can wait. We have an extraction plan that preferably doesn’t involve any of us dying.”
I grab Bianca’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as we move toward the door. “Stay close,” I whisper, my voice taking on a serious edge. “Do exactly as I say, when I say it.”
She nods, a determined gleam replacing the fear in her eyes. That’s my girl—scared but doing it anyway.
