Page 104 of Wicked Sinner
His laugh dies, and he takes a step toward me. "Watch your mouth, princess. Just because the boss wants you alive doesn't mean you have to be comfortable."
I meet his eyes steadily. "Go ahead. Hit a pregnant woman. I'm sure that'll impress your boss." Inwardly, my emotions are churning, but I think I’m doing a pretty good job of bluffing. If nothing else, a part of me wants to find out just how committed they are to keeping me unhurt.
He raises his hand, but one of the others grabs his arm. "Boss said not to touch her."
The first man shakes him off but steps back. "You think you're tough? We'll see how tough you are after a few hours in here."
They leave me alone then, locking the door behind them, though I can hear them talking in low voices just outside the door. I immediately start working on the zip ties, twisting my wrists back and forth, trying to stretch the plastic. It's slow going, and the ties cut into my skin, but I can feel them starting to give. I have no idea what I’ll do after that, though. I have nothing to cut through the ties holding my ankles to the chair—but with my hands free, maybe I can think of something. Maybe I could grab one of their weapons.
It’s better than just giving up, at least.
I'm making progress when I hear footsteps approaching. Heavy, measured steps that speak of authority. The door opens, and a man walks in who's clearly the one in charge, from his bearing and the fact that he’s wearing a suit while the others are all in fatigues and cargoes.
He’s not that old, I realize with surprise. Late thirties, maybe, not much older than Caesar, if at all. And handsome, which is another surprise—although evil doesn’t always mean ugly. He has blond hair shaved to a crisp buzzcut, ice-blue eyes, and a strong jaw. He pauses in front of me, appraising me, and I wonder who he works for—if anyone. If this really has something to do with Konstantin, or if this man is someone else, some other danger.
"Mrs. Genovese," he says, his accent thicker than his men's. "I apologize for the rough treatment. My name is Matvey Slakov."
The name doesn't mean anything to me, but the way he says it suggests it should. "Am I supposed to know who you are?"
He smiles, but there's no warmth in it. "Perhaps not. But I knew your husband's father very well. Don Genovese and my father were… business partners, you could say."
I lick my lips nervously. "Were?"
"Both dead now, unfortunately. Killed by the same woman, as it happens." His smile turns sharp. "Valentina Abramov. Though she was Valentina Kane then."
That’s not news to me. Caesar confided as much at the gala where I met Valentina. But Matvey doesn’t need to know to what extent I’m aware of the drama surrounding all of this.
I breathe in slowly, trying to maintain the façade of confidence, as if none of this really matters to me. "Why should I care about ancient history? I don’t have anything to do with that."
"Because it's not ancient. It's very much present." He pulls up another chair and sits across from me, close enough that I can smell his cologne. It smells like tobacco and spice, but just a little too thick to be attractive. "You see, my father and Don Genovese had a plan. They were going to remove Konstantin Abramov and take control of Miami themselves once his father was dead. ButValentina discovered the plot, and she made sure both men paid the price."
He leans back, studying me. “I escaped. I heard they sent men to try to find me, but I made myself scarce. Went to Russia for a while, to lie low, in a place outside Moscow. Very cold. Not at all to my liking, after spending my life here.” He smiles, as if we’re friends having a conversation, and I glare at him.
"What does any of this have to do with me?"
"You're the key to everything, Mrs. Genovese. Your husband's weakness. His Achilles' heel." Matvey's smile widens. "Caesar thinks he can waltz back into Miami after twenty years and claim his birthright. But he's made enemies, and not just me. He’s arrogant, and reckless, and stubborn. A rebellious teenager in a man’s body. And now that I’ve taken you, his ultimate rebellion against the powers that be here, he’ll come for you. And when he does—” Matvey points a finger to his temple and mimics a gun going off. “I’ll finish off the Genovese line and take everything he has for myself. Including you.”
I frown. “I thought his father was your father’s ally.”
“He was,” Matvey agrees. “But Konstantin took my inheritance. Consumed my father’s assets and interests as the price of his betrayal. Now I’m left with almost nothing—nothing other than what I had of my own, which can’t compare to the Genovese fortune. My father and Don Genovese had allies. We’ll rally them and make a bid for power against Konstantin.”
I laugh at that. I can’t help it. “I don’t know that much about this world, and even I know going up against Konstantin is apparently the stupidest thing you could do.”
“Maybe,” he allows. “But there’s also the possibility that Konstantin will thank me for ridding him of the inconvenient Genovese heir… especially if I try to make peace with him. I’ll marry Isabella Torrino, agree to Konstantin’s terms if they’re nottoo egregious, and play along instead of fighting him at every turn, as Caesar has.”
“Why on earth would he trust you?” I spit. Matvey laughs.
“Well, for one thing, I had nothing to do with my father’s plotting. I’m an innocent in all of this.” He smiles at me, faux kindness painted across his face. “And for another, Konstantin is a diplomat. It’s his greatest weakness as a boss. He prefers words to violence, peace to war. If I offer terms, he’ll consider them before shedding blood.”
“Caesar is the heir. I’m his wife. Hispregnantwife.” I glare at him. “I don’t think Konstantin will let that go unanswered.”
“And I think he’ll be glad to be rid of the annoying gnat that is your husband.” Matvey chuckles. “We’ll have to agree to disagree. I’m sure your husband will be here soon—my men didn’t make themselves all that hard to follow. I want him to find you, after all. I’m only annoyed that my first attempt went so poorly.”
I feel my blood turn cold. “So the attack on my way home was you.”
He nods. “You proved to be quite the little wildcat, Bridget. Impressive. It almost makes me want to keep you for myself… but that would be more trouble than even someone as beautiful as you is worth. I have plans, and I won’t allow you to derail them. I’m not the fool your husband is.”
I swallow hard, trying not to let the fear on my face show. “And what if Caesar kills you and takes me back?”
