Page 69 of XV (Fifteen) (War of Roses 1)

“Can you speak?” He frowns, gingerly swiping his thumb along my wounded cheek. “Your face… You look so much like—”

“Pardon me, Sergei,” Mischa says, appearing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “I should keep better track of my toys.”

“It is no trouble,” Sergei replies, stepping back. “I was just curious if she had a name.”

Mischa shrugs. “Not that I remember and not that it matters.” He sounds casual enough, but his tone is harder than it should be.Why?

Perhaps for the same reason Sergei’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, even as he maintains that calm smile. “Of course.” He shifts his weight, appearing to turn.Wham!Something nudges my foot, throwing me off-balance, right into a wall of rigid muscle. Before I can attempt to regain my bearings, hot breath nudges my ear, carrying two grated syllables. “Elena?”

There’s pain in that hollow tone.

And even more alarming…

There’s recognition.

“Something wrong?” Mischa calls.

“My apologies,” Sergei mutters as his hand settles over my shoulder.

“No. The apologies aremine.” Another grip seizes my opposite forearm, decidedly harsher. “It appears she requires more training,” Mischa says coldly, yanking me back before positioning himself in front of me. “I’ll be sure to see to that.”

Sergei says nothing. From my position, I can only hear his retreating footsteps, slow and hesitant. “Wait—” He speaks rapidly in a language I can’t understand.

Whatever he says makes Mischa stiffen, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side. He’s thinking, mulling something over. Then he shakes his head. “Nyet.She is not for sale.”

Sergei laughs. “As you wish. My offer still stands if you change your mind.”

He continues down the entire length of the hall. Before I can be sure that he’s gone, I’m yanked off-balance and into a vacated room.

“What did he tell you?” Mischa demands.

My heart pounds out a frantic rhythm. Since my capture, I’ve never heard him sound like this. Guttural. Raw. On edge.

His eyes flash menacingly when I remain silent. “I won’t ask you twice—”

“N-nothing,” I insist.

“Oh?” His nostrils flare as if catching the stench of the lie in the air. “Then what did you say tohim, Little Rose?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Then why did he just double his price for you?”

His price? Only now do I remember his earlier threat.Someone offered to buy you…

“Can you tell me why a man like Sergei Vasilev would offer two million for a Winthorp whore?”

My mind reels. Two million? Shocked, I have to force myself to reply, “I-I don’t know—”

“If you fear me, then you should be terrified of Sergei. I’ve kept your soul intact.” He tilts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, and nods. “It’s still there. I’ve shown you far more mercy than you realize. But Sergei…”

There’s a rare note of respect in his voice that triggers unease in my body. I picture the man from the night before, with his unrelenting calm and quiet power. Mischa not only respects him, he’safraidof him.

“Do you believe that men can change?” he wonders, pressing his thumb against my lower lip to demand an answer. “Do you?”

“N-no.” If life with Robert taught me one thing, it was that men, of all creatures in this world, are the most set in their ways. The most stubborn. The most fearful of change. Poor Vanya seemed to be learning that the hard way, though I’m not stupid enough to mention that now. I simply nod against his palm. “They can’t.”

“Then you, my Little Rose, have a new monster to hide from. Sergei offered money for you, but that was just a formality. He can’t demand you directly…” He stares beyond me, and I suspect he’s speaking more to himself than anyone else. “But when he wants something, he gets it eventually—”

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