Page 59 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
Sasha’s hand slowly slides away from my face, and I grip his shirt, slamming my lips over his. My heart swells in my chest, and tears prickle my eyes. I’m so happy to see him. He kisses me back, fingers stroking over my face, so gentle, so loving—the complete opposite of Enrique.
“Malyshka,” he breathes against my mouth.
“I missed you.”
“There’s no time. I just had to see you.” His voice is barely even a whisper, as his fingertips trail over my cheek. “I’m sorry about Gabi.”
My heart sinks. He’s the first person to say it, to even acknowledge that I lost my sister, and the words on his lips make it all the more real.
The hinges on the external door squeak before heels click over the floor. Two women start talking, and it serves to drown out mine and Sasha’s conversation.
I pull him close, pressing my head to his chest. “Please say you’re here to kill him?”
He sighs, kissing the top of my hair. “Not yet. I’m sorry.”
I lift my head. “When?”
“Soon. Is he enraged yet?”
I narrow my eyes and nod. “What exactly are you planning?”
“To bait him into going after Nero.”
“He’s on the edge. I can probably give him a shove.”
“Do not risk yourself, malyshka.”
“I won’t.” At least no more than I already have.
“I do need you to do something for me.” He holds out a tiny metal disk, no bigger than my little fingernail. “Only if it is safe, stick this into something that Bianchi always has on his person.” I take the tiny metal disk and hold it up on the tip of my index finger. “It’s a tracker. When the time comes, we’ll need to know his exact location.”
I nod, and he stares at me, his brows tugging together.
Touching my chin, he twists my head to the side, inspecting my jaw. I know he sees the deep bruising. “I hate that you’re with him,” he spits.
I shake my head. “It’s fine. It won’t be long.”
A sudden banging on the cubicle door makes me jump. “Hurry up,” the guard says.
“Coming!”
Sasha’s lips brush over mine. “I’ll come for you, malyshka.”
I close my eyes, fighting back tears. “I love you.”
“Always.”
I feel the loss of heat as he steps back, and I suck in a deep breath before I open my eyes, taking one last look at him. Then I turn around and walk out of the stall. The guard watches me intently as I wash my hands and leave the bathroom. My heart feels heavy for seeing Sasha. I loved him before, but now he feels so vital to my existence. He’s all I have left, the only soul in this world who even cares if I live or die. It’s both heartbreaking and reassuring because if I am to have only one person, then I’m grateful it’s him. My unsuspecting white knight.
I know he’ll come for me, and that knowledge is what makes me keep walking, back into that ballroom, back to that table where my murderous husband waits. Soon. He’ll be dead soon, I tell myself.
I don’t drink for the rest of the evening, attuning myself to Enrique’s hushed and cryptic conversations. It’s more of the same: his acquaintances regretfully telling him that until he solves his publicity issues, they simply cannot work with him. His empire is crumbling. Thankfully, we leave before dessert is even served.
The second the car door closes, he loses it, shouting and slamming his fist into the inside of the door over and over. Where he was once so cool and calm, he’s now beginning to unravel, and I smile. He’s suddenly right in my face, his fist in my hair, wrenching my head back.
“Maybe if I send Nero Verdi your head, he’ll stop this petty bullshit.”
I snort. “Nero Verdi doesn’t give a shit about me.”
He gets closer until I can feel spittle hitting my face as he speaks. “Una wants your head, principessa.”
A laugh slips from my lips, and I delight in the prospect of feeding into his insecurities. “You aren’t that stupid, Enrique.”
He lets up just enough that I can look him in the eyes.
“Una might want revenge, but for Nero, this is just an excuse. You attacked the mad Italian in his own home. Since that moment, he’s been waiting for this.”
He releases me and sits back in his seat, a strained breath rattling his chest. He taps a finger over his bottom lip.
“Think about it, Enrique. If Una wanted to avenge Sasha, she’d just kill us. Hitting your business, that has Nero written all over it.” I love watching the confusion on his face, him trying to figure out his next move to counter their motives.
“He thinks me weak,” Enrique says quietly, and I can see just how much that bothers him.
“Well, are you?” It’s the only seed I need to plant.
