Page 74 of Paved in Fire

“Have fun, little sis,” Vitaly adds, squeezing my shoulder and shooting me a quick smile before walking down the hall to pick a room for himself.

Matvey cocks his gun and hands it to me, flicking the safety off at the last second. “Careful,malishka. All you need to do is pull the trigger.”

I nod, and my breathing starts to pick up when I feel the weight of the gun in my hand. Finn gives a soft whine and leans his weight into my leg in a move that instantly comforts me while Matvey cups my cheek and kisses me gently.

“We do this together,malishka,” he murmurs against my lips.

When he feels me nod, he grabs his other gun, the one hidden in his ankle holster and clicks the safety off before opening the door and revealing the man I’m about to kill.

He’s surprisingly ordinary looking in his khaki pants and pale blue polo shirt. His thinning hair is cut short and light brown eyes stare at us through his glasses.

“What the hell is going on?” he shouts at us, jumping to his feet and then paling when he sees us. His eyes jump from Matvey’s gun to my masked face and then finally the German Shepherd growling softly at my feet.

Matvey’s gun is pointed at him while mine still hangs at my side. “Don’t fucking move,” he tells him when the man tries to take a step closer.

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” the guy says, giving a forced laugh and trying to turn on the charm. “My name is Grant Skyler, and I’m here on business. Maybe you’ve heard of me? I own a chain of hotels in America and the UK.”

“And on the side you like to buy trafficked women,” Matvey says, shaking his head in disappointment. “Shame on you, Grant. That makes me never want to stay in one of your shitty hotels.”

Grant seems more offended by the shitty hotel comment than he does about the accusation of buying trafficked women. His face turns an unhealthy shade of red before he says, “I don’t buy trafficked women. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you need to leave.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Matvey walks over to the black chair in the center of the room and picks up the tablet sitting on the cushion. After a few taps, he holds up the screen, letting Grant get a good view of the bound woman filling the screen. Matvey keeps his eyes on the man as he taps the screen, scrolling through the photos. Each one shows the face of a terrified woman, bound and gagged, and after only a few I’m forced to look away.

Matvey sees my reaction and tosses the tablet back on the chair. In Russian he says, “They’re all okay, baby. We knew what flight they were coming in on. Our men took over, killed the men involvedand they’re helping the women get back to their families. They’re all safe now.”

I look between Mr. Preppy in his polo shirt, the kind of man who would be invited into homes without a second thought, and Matvey, a man who’s covered in tattoos and scars, the kind of man that most people would slam the door on if they saw him coming and call the police.

I meet Matvey’s dark eyes and say in Russian, “I love you so fucking much.”

Men like Grant make me appreciate what I have all the more. He’s a jackass who buys women, and Matvey’s the kind of man who searched for me for two long years, burning the whole goddamn world down until he found me.

His dark eyes soften at my words. “I love you so fucking much, too, baby.”

Grant lets out a harsh laugh, but it’s cut off when Matvey turns his dark eyes on him. There’s no longer a hint of anything soft in those eyes. Everything about him has gone hard as steel, and Grant pales a bit at the sight.

“Something funny?” Matvey asks him.

“It’s going to be funny when your asses end up in prison for this.”

This time it’s Matvey’s turn to laugh, but this time it’s genuine. “This is going to come as a shock, Grant, so prepare yourself.” Matvey motions between the two of us. “We’re not going to prison.” He points his finger back at the man who’s trying very hard to not shit his perfectly pressed khakis. “And you’re going to die.”

“Help!” Grant starts yelling, refusing to believe this is the end of his fucked-up road. “Help me!”

“No one’s going to help,” Matvey tells him. “You’re all alone, and I want you to die knowing that you did this to yourself. No one forced you to come tonight.”

A loud gunshot echoes through the room, making Grant let out a whimper and take a step back.

Matvey smiles and cocks his head. “I guess the fun is starting.”

‘Please,” Grant begs. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know what was going on.”

I watch him, amazed and disgusted. If I didn’t know any better, I might believe him. Perverted assholes can be so damn convincing when they want to be. Finn gives a warning growl when Grant turns his attention to me. I may have a mask on, but he can tell I’m a woman, and because of that, he thinks I’ll be the pushover.

“Please, don’t do this. I have a wife and kids. I swear I didn’t know what was going on. I was just told to be here tonight, that it was some sort of fundraiser to help people. Please, help me,” he begs, and I can’t help but laugh. The sex trafficker begging one of the victims for mercy. Oh, how things have fucking changed.

Matvey steps behind me, wrapping his arms around my upper chest before kissing my masked head while he keeps his eyes and gun trained on Grant.

“I’m not going to help you,” I tell him. “I’m going to shoot you.”

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