Page 52 of Ruthless Vow
My throat tightens. My voice stays level anyway. “You don’t get to decide whether my child lives.”
Mikhail’s eyes sharpen slightly. “I decide everything in this house.”
He lifts his hand, not toward me, but toward the door. One of the guards steps out immediately. He returns seconds later with someone else.
It’s my nurse. She stumbles, then catches herself. Her hands are bound behind her back with plastic ties, tight enough that her fingers are already turning purple. She looks so scared and sovulnerable. A complete 180 from the stern, nonchalant woman I’ve come to know.
I don’t move. I don’t speak. I don’t give her false hope. Mikhail watches me watch her, then turns his attention to the bound woman like he’s bored.
“This woman,” Mikhail says, “was paid to leave her position at a clinic to come take care of you full time. It seems her services will no longer be needed.”
She starts shaking. “Please,” she begs. “I’m not part of any of this. I was hired to help her, but I have no loyalty to her. I’ll walk away right now. You don’t have to do this.”
Mikhail raises his hand slightly. She goes silent immediately, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Mikhail looks at me again. “I’ve been patient with you, Anya. But I don’t tolerate disrespect, and I really don’t tolerate disloyalty.”
The ache in my ribs has nothing on the ache in my heart as I watch this woman, who’s taken care of me for weeks, beg for her life. I never even bothered to learn her name.
She looks up at me, voice breaking. “Please. Please, Ms. Malenkova.”
I keep my face still. My voice stays cold.
“She means nothing to me,” I say to Mikhail. “Hurting her won’t frighten me.”
Her sob turns louder.
Mikhail’s gaze lingers on my face like he’s measuring whether I have a heart he can press on. He doesn’t find what he wants. He shifts tactics without changing his tone.
“You think I am trying to frighten you,” he answers with a sadistic chuckle.
He steps slightly to the side so I have a clear line of sight.
“I am not trying to frighten you,” he continues. “I’m showing you the scale of my reach.”
One of the guards behind him pulls out a gun. The sound is small. A click. A safety disengaging. The nurse begs again, her words tumbling out, incoherent. Mikhail doesn’t even look at her. He keeps his eyes on me.
“Tell me you understand,” he says.
I hold his gaze. “I understand that you think you can intimidate me.”
Mikhail’s smile widens, polite and wrong. “Her blood is on your hands.”
The guard raises the gun. My nurse squeezes her eyes shut. The shot is so loud in the enclosed room. Her body jerks, then collapses to the floor in a heap like a puppet whose string has been cut. Blood pools under her in a fast gush.
My stomach roils violently. I keep my face still anyway. I keep breathing shallow. I keep my eyes open. Looking away would be giving Mikhail something. Looking away would be him winning a small victory.
Mikhail watches me for a long moment, waiting for me to break. I don’t. I feel the crack in my control, sharp and deep, but I hold it in place because I’ve had years of practice holding myself together when the world tries to split me open. Tears sting behind my eyes. I refuse them. My hands stay steady. Mikhail nods once, like he’s satisfied with the demonstration.
“There will be more,” he says conversationally. “There’s no shortage of people you pretend not to care about. Viktor’s death will definitely be the sweetest.”
He steps closer, finally close enough that I can smell his intentionally expensive cologne.
“You are going to marry me,” he says. “You are going to carry that child under my name. You are going to do it happily and without complaint, because otherwise, I will kill everyone you’ve ever loved.”
I meet his eyes. “And it’ll still never make me yours,” I tell him coldly.
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