Page 99 of Sinner's Obsession

A few guys even grab me as soon as I get their attention, gripping my hips and grinding against me as if they thought I was hoping they would rub up against me like dogs in heat. Lost in the chaos and on the brink of tears, I forge my way across the dance floor, searching for anyone who’s seen Ben.

Then, as I finally make my way to the bar, hoping a bartender will know where I should look, strong fingers wrap around my wrist. Ready to knee the next guy in the nuts who touches me without permission, I clench my teeth and whirl on the person.

And stop short.

“Follow me,” Mikhail says, his oily voice cutting through the din even though he doesn’t seem to be shouting.

Relief floods me, and I follow without a second thought as he weaves his way back through the crowd. No one touches me this time around. In fact, most people seem to step out of his way, parting like the Red Sea, when they see Mikhail heading their way. It sends a shiver up my spine to see such authority over the clubgoers despite their drunken state.

And though I find Mikhail to be a sick and distasteful human being, my worry for Ben overwhelms my dislike for the egotistical businessman.

“Where’s Ben?” I shout as he guides me toward a door at the back of the club.

It’s less crowded here, with booths for people to sit in rather than a mass of people standing on the dance floor. Mikhail only glances over his shoulder at me with a lazy smile. My skin crawls at the look he gives me. But I don’t dare yank my hand from his grasp. He wouldn’t try anything when my brother’s been hurt and needs me, would he?

We pass several burly men standing on either side of the door, bouncers, I suppose, ensuring only those who are allowed into some VIP room. One opens the door for us as Mikhail approaches, his eyes remaining trained on the middle distance.

The swell of the music dies to a muffled, pounding beat as we step into the back room, and my ears ring with the sudden transition. Like rising above the surface of a deep pool after too long under water, I feel like I can finally breathe.

Glancing around the private room, I take in the lounge area, the private bar, and a pool table, all lit with an eerie neon-yellow glow.

“Ben?” I ask tentatively as I find the room deserted aside from me and Mikhail.

My stomach drops as the dark-eyed creep turns to face me, his expression far too relaxed.

“What’s going on?” I demand, pulling my arm from his grip as I take a step back. “Whereis Ben?”

Mikhail releases a low, menacing chuckle, his eyes igniting with greedy excitement. “I have to admit, you were easier to convince than I thought. But your brother was right. You were ready to drop everything as soon as I said he needed you.”

Heart hammering in my throat, I swallow hard, trying to put it back in my chest. And a deep, aching betrayal seeps through my body as the meaning of his words sinks in.

“You lied to get me here,” I state, my blood turning to ice as I suddenly recognize the danger I’m in. “Ben’s not hurt then?” I hate that my voice quivers.

“He’s fine. We worked out this little ploy to keep you safe,” Mikhail explains, attempting a soothing tone as he tries to placate me.

“Safe from what?” My question is hardly more than a whisper as I fight the intense urge to vomit.

“The Velespakhanand his family will die tonight. My men were already in place when you left. In fact, they’re probably already dead—either by the fire set to smoke them out or the ambush waiting for them if they tried to make their escape.”

“No,” I breathe, tears stinging my eyes as I think of Pyotr, Silvia, and Isla. Efrem. All trapped in a house, forced to decide between death by bullet or flames. “No, you’re lying. They’re not dead!” I scream, my mind rejecting his statement even as I turn to run.

To warn them.

Because maybe it’s not too late.

I’m halfway to the door when arms wrap around me like iron. Mikhail breathes heavily in my ear as I scream, struggling to break free.

“Let me go! I have to warn them,” I plead.

But my struggle is fruitless, and my words are meaningless against the man who set the trap in the first place. Mikhail and my brother tricked me into leaving four of the people I love most in the world to die. All gone in an instant.

“Why?” I demand, my voice cracking with my grief as I jerk in his grasp, my stomach squirming at the feel of his chest at my back.

“I have my reasons,” he says cockily, turning me to face him.

When I shove away from him, he grabs my wrists, jerking me forward until I stop fighting him. Breathing heavily, I glare up into his face.

“But I also did it as a favor for your father,” he adds lightly. “Though I must admit, Pyotr’s death will benefit me greatly.”

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