Empire of Sin (Empire #2)(95)

I wouldn’t have believed it either a week ago. But ever since Daniel confirmed my doubts about her and I put all the pieces of the puzzle together, I had to find her again.

I had to rectify things.

“You were expecting someone else?” I can’t control the venom in my tone. “Your fiancé perhaps?”

“Oh my God, you’re really here…” I expected anything from her reaction—the initial shock, shame, maybe even anger, but when she starts shaking and her grip releases her phone, letting it clatter to the floor, the last emotion I expected takes refuge in her eyes.

Fear.

Deep, raw, and absolutely gutting. It’s like she’s seeing her worst nightmare coming true.

Or maybe the scariest ghost from her childhood nightmares.

She lunges at me, grabbing my arm with her unsteady one. “You have to go. You can’t be here…”

I effortlessly pull free of her hold. “This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“No…” She’s shaking her head, her frantic gaze searching behind me for something or someone, I’m not sure.

“On the contrary, it’s a fucking yes, beautiful.”

“You don’t understand…”

I grab her by her slim shoulders, shaking her. “It’s you who doesn’t seem to understand the reality of things. Did you really think pulling that stunt with Daniel and disappearing on me would mean I’d let you go? You can run to the other side of the world, invent a new fucking identity and name and life, and I would still find you. You’re mine, fucking mine, and that means there’s no fucking escaping me. There’s no escaping us.”

A tear slides down her cheek and clings to her upper lip. I don’t think as I lean over and lick it, my tongue clinging to her skin as I taste the saltiness. Then I drag my tongue up her cheek, licking the tear, and when I reach her eyes, I kiss the closed lid. I kiss those ethereally blue eyes that I haven’t stopped thinking about since the first time I saw them.

Her nails sink into my forearms and she digs them in deeply, but nothing is deep enough to push me off her, so I continue kissing her tears and feasting on her taste.

“I lied to you,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

I pull back but don’t let her go. “About what?”

“About who I am. Where I come from. My family. All of it.”

“You didn’t lie. You just hid it. I knew all along there was more to the birth of Jane’s identity.”

“It’s because…I’m…I’m…”

“The daughter of the New York Bratva’s Pakhan. I know.”

“And you still came?” She stares incredulously, some of her earlier fear slipping back into her eyes. “What is wrong with you?”

“You.” I breathe out the word, leaning my forehead against hers. “You are everything that’s wrong with me, beautiful. You took something of mine and I need it back.”

“Stop saying things like that…Knox…please, listen to me, you have to go. If Papa or any of the others see you—”

“I’m not scared of them.”

She pushes at my chest with her fists, but there’s no energy behind it, as if she doesn’t want to be doing it. “Any person in their right mind would be. They kill in the blink of an eye and without any remorse. You’ll just be another nameless person on their list.”

“I’m not in my right fucking mind, Anastasia. I told you just now, you took something of mine. My fucking sanity included.”

She clutches my hand, her grip clammy and still shaking, then guides me in from the balcony, her gaze watching every nook and cranny like a hawk.

“Where are you taking me, beautiful?”

“Shh.” She shakes her head at me, then leads me to some stairs that are hidden from the main staircase.

I’ve been in mafia leaders’ houses before when I was either investigating something or on a case. But the Russian Bratva’s compound, aka Sergei Sokolov’s mansion, is more like a billionaire’s home that you could easily get lost in.

That’s Anastasia’s real last name. Sokolov. I finally have a full profile of the mysterious girl with the bright eyes and soft smile.

She basically drags me up the stairs, down a hall, and then pushes me into a room. The moment she closes the door, she releases a breath, but she doesn’t relax her hold on my hand.

I throw a quick glance at the room and it doesn’t take me long to realize it’s hers.

There’s a giant desk on the corner with three monitors, but the rest of it is girly. The bedsheets have a butterfly motif and the creamy wallpaper has flowers on it.

She’s always been a conundrum of opposing things, but they still fit her character so well.

They still speak so much of her and who she is.

A soft woman with a secret wild side.

“So this is where you lived all this time.”

She gives me the stink eye. “That’s not what should be important right now.”

“Then what is?” I step to her and she visibly swallows. “I think it’s hot to see where you sleep every night in nothing but shorts. Maybe even naked?”

“S-stop it.” Her voice is breathy, but arousal coats it.