of a shotgun.
Mikhail cursed, shouted orders to his guards and then
slammed the bedroom door and locked it with heavy
bolts. He grabbed my hand and pulled me with him to a
bureau, then opened it to reveal a bank of security
monitors showing the view from cameras around the
mansion. The room was obviously designed as a safe
room, with a reinforced door to hold off intruders. In the
world I’d grown up in, that was considered normal.
More gunfire from downstairs. And then my heart nearly
stopped when I saw Angelo on a monitor, striding
through the chaos in a suit and overcoat. Beside him,
his friend, Rico.
“They don’t stand a chance,” muttered Mikhail to
himself. He’d started sweating. “The guards will stop
them.”
On the monitors, I saw men in black military fatigues
running down hallways. Chyort! These were ex-military
men, well trained….
But Angelo and Rico, together seemed unstoppable. The
guards they didn’t shoot, they battered out of the way.
The hallways grew quieter and quieter as Mikhail’s men
fell. And then they were marching towards a door I
realized as ours—
There was a heavy bang on the door. “Irina?” yelled
Angelo.
“I’m here!” I yelled. “He has a gun!” I tried to pull free
of Mikhail’s hand—if I could just break free, I could run
to the door and throw the bolts—
But I’d forgotten how strong Mikhail was. He yanked on
my hand and I screamed, my shoulder burning as I was
snapped back towards him. As I reached him, he
backhanded me across the face. I cried out and fell to
my knees, the room blurry. I realized I’d been lucky he’d
caught me with his hand, not his gun, or I’d be
unconscious at best.
“Irina!” yelled Angelo again. I could hear the anger in
his voice: he must have heard my cry. The door shook
in its frame but didn’t give. Mikhail and I both looked
toward the security monitors and saw Angelo kick the
door again. Rico stood next to him, shotgun at the
ready.
Mikhail cursed, looked around, looked at me...and then
suddenly clamped a hand over my mouth. It took me by
surprise and I panicked, screaming into his palm, but it
made almost no noise at all. He had big hands and an
iron grip. When he pulled me back against his chest,
controlling me easily, I realized he was good at this.
He’d had plenty of practice controlling struggling women
and stopping them from screaming. My stomach
knotted. And this is the man I’ll be with forever….
He walked us backward across the room, our feet
making no sound on the deep carpet and my mewls
covered by Angelo’s banging at the door. Mikhail
pressed a piece of the molding beside a full-length
mirror and the whole thing swung open: a hidden door.
Mikhail backed us into the passage and closed the
mirror behind us. A secret escape route: Vasiliy’s house
in Moscow had one, too. I struggled frantically. Angelo
won’t be able to find us!
But it was much worse than I thought.
Mikhail edged us sideways along the narrow passage
until we came to another door. He cautiously opened it
and we emerged into the next bedroom. Then he snuck
a glance out into the hallway, still with me held tight
against his chest. I could see Angelo and Rico at the
end of the hall still battering at the door, their backs to
us.
Mikhail checked his gun.
My eyes went wide. I craned my head as best I could to
look round at him, desperately trying to shake it. I’ll
come with you, I tried to communicate. I’ll do whatever
you want! Just don’t kill them! We had a clear path to
the stairs—we could easily sneak behind them and
escape.
But Mikhail looked deep into my eyes...and smirked.
Then he pulled me out into the hallway and leveled his
gun at Angelo.
He wasn’t going to kill him in spite of my protests; he
was going to kill him because of them. He wanted to
cause me as much pain as possible.
I tried to scream a warning but Mikhail’s soft palm
formed an airtight seal against my mouth and Angelo’s
banging at the door made far too much noise. I saw the
gun barrel waver and settle on the middle of Angelo’s
back. Mikhail’s finger tightened on the trigger….
I lifted my foot and stamped as hard as I could. My heel
gouged a line straight down Mikhail’s shin and instep.
His hand lifted off my mouth for a split second as he
tensed in agony.
“A—” I yelled.
Angelo and Rico both turned. Rico was closer to us and
saw the danger first. He dived towards Angelo….
And the gun went off.
46
Irina
The gun had been close to my ear when it went off. The
flash and smoke blinded me for a few seconds, the
boom reverberating around my head.
By the time I recovered, Mikhail was pulling me along
the hallway by the hand, his gun still leveled. As we got
closer, I saw Angelo on the floor. Rico was lying half on
top of him—he must have knocked him to the ground
when he dived in front of the bullet. Rico’s face was
pale, his hands clutched to his chest. Angelo’s hands
covered Rico’s, embracing his friend from behind as they
both looked down at the wound in horror. “No,” said
Angelo in a choked voice. “No!”
Mikhail smirked as we walked up. “See what happens
when you try to take something that doesn’t belong to
you?” he asked. And pointed his gun right at Angelo’s
head.
“No!” I screamed, and grabbed at the hand holding the
gun. “Wait!”
Mikhail half-looked at me, keeping a wary eye on
Angelo. He looked amused: I think he enjoyed watching
me beg.
I took a deep breath and tried to be Russian. Coldly
logical. “If you kill him,” I said, “you have no leverage
over me.”
He considered it for a moment. “Vasiliy is half-convinced
already.” He put his fingers to my face and brushed the
bruise that was forming from where he’d slapped me. “I
have other ways to make you obey.”
Angelo let out a low growl. I wanted him to save me. I
wanted nothing more in the world. But if he tried to
make a move, Mikhail would kill him in a heartbeat. I
forced myself not to look at him because I didn’t know if
I could get through this if I looked into those brown and
amber eyes. “But wouldn’t you rather have me willing?”
I asked Mikhail.
“Don’t, Irina,” spat Angelo. “Don’t do this!”
“Let him live,” I told Mikhail, “and I’ll come with you. I
won’t try to escape. I’ll convince Vasiliy. I’ll have your
children. I’ll do everything you want.”
I heard Angelo draw in a long, shuddering breath of
pure fury.
Mikhail looked at me, his smirk widening, looked at
Angelo...and nodded. “Fine,” he said. He took Angelo
and Rico’s guns. “Come. I’ll have someone follow with
the cases.” And he started to drag me away down the
hallway.
Then he stopped, remembering that he didn’t have to
do that anymore. He released me and then offered me
his hand.
I stared at it...and then clasped it gently. When I looked
back over my shoulder, Angelo looked as if someone
was tearing out his heart. Don’t! he mouthed.
It was the only way I could save him. I looked away,
tears in my eyes, and walked with my husband-to-be to
the door.
47
Angelo
I stared after her for as long as I could, until she