Page 15 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

Seeing that bruise on her cheek infuriated me and made me want to go hunt Malcome down.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Oliver spat furiously. “How? When?”

Her brother stared at her bruised cheek. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

Malcome Schmidt was a power greedy and cruel bastard that destroyed everything he touched. I should know that; he was the reason my sister was dead. The plan was in the motion and I’d be the one to end up on top. There were no other options.

Game. Set. Match.Although now that she was in front of me, I debated whether it was her that won a game of chess without even realizing it. Because I would do anything to keep her safe.

And Olivia would be free of him forever. I wanted to be the one to set her free, to give her everything.

I stood up and walked over to her, stopping just a foot from her, staring at the bruise on her soft creamy skin.

“Who did that to you?” I asked her. She smelled like spring rain in the mountains.

Her eyes lifted to meet my stare, heartbreak in those blue eyes. I could get lost in those deep oceans. She took my breath away as my gaze drowned in hers.

She couldn’t be but five foot five tops, so it felt like I was towering over her. Without a second thought, my fingers reached to her face and lightly brushed over her cheek. She winced, just slightly but I noticed it. There was nothing about this woman I wouldn’t notice.

“Who did that?” I repeated my question.

“Her fucking fiancé,” Oliver answered, his voice pure hate. It seemed Oliver and I had something in common, which made me like the guy.

“I’m fine,” she answered us both. “About the debt payment-”

Oliver interrupted her. “Sis, I got this; don’t worry about me.”

Anastasia said they were twins, and up close I could see the resemblance. Their hair was the same shade of red, although Olivia’s deep blue eyes didn’t match her brother’s brown eyes. Her brother was built strong and tall, while his sister was petite and fragile.

It explained with his military background he’d be tougher than his sister. Anastasia mentioned he was deployed in the Middle East and his leave was at the perfect time. The only reason he took it and came back to Washington D.C. was to help his sister. My sources indicated he usually stayed clear of this city and his sister would meet him at other destinations when he was on leave.

“Olivia,” her brother growled.

“Stop it, Oliver,” she ordered him, giving me a glimpse of her backbone.

She looked back at me, her eyes full of caution as if she was scared she’d get in more trouble.

“Can we arrange some payment plan to pay off the debt?” she spoke calmly, almost resigned. “Mr…”

“Nikolai Smirnov,” I told her. “Call me Nikolai.”

“Nikolai.” Fuck, my name on her lips sounded right, and gave me an instant hard on. “If you agree to a payment plan, I promise to pay off each cent he owes.” She glared at her brother for a second. “He won’t gamble anymore. He won’t get any additional loans, and he won’t attempt to get any.” She turned to her brother and added, “Anywhere!”

“No,” Oliver protested. “You need that money to get away.”

“Seriously, Oliver! Secret.”

Now, there was an interesting piece of information.

“My brother was trying to help me,” she pleaded. “I’ll pay all of it, I promise. I’ll sign whatever document you need me to.”

“How can I count on your signature to mean anything,” I asked her although I got a sense she kept her promises, “if you were planning on getting away?”

“She needs to get away,” Oliver jumped in. “Before the wedding.”

“Why don’t you just cancel the wedding?” I asked her, interested to hear her response.

“She can’t,” Oliver gritted through his teeth in response, visibly upset. I didn’t need anyone to tell me he wanted to help his sister. “Long story. But he’s killing my sister.”

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