Satin Princess(114)

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asks. “I knew you would insist that Anton come and rescue him.”

My stomach drops. “Where is he now?”

“Sitting alone in a house about twenty-five miles from here,” she says. “I injected him with quite a hefty dose of Zolpidem, though, so I’m not sure if he’s still breathing.”

I blanche as the blood in my veins turns to ice. No, no, no, no…

“What’s the point of killing him?” I rasp.

“He just annoyed me,” she snaps. “The way he looked at you, like you were something special… it was irritating.”

“Do you really expect to be the center of every man’s world?”

“I didn’t care about Chris, runty little man child that he was. I just wanted to make a point.”

“You really think you can threaten me into staying away from Anton?”

She smiles. “I told Chris you didn’t care enough about him to leave Anton. It’s why I upped the dosage before I injected him. It was a mercy killing.”

“You’re a raging psychopath.”

She shrugs. “By the end of the night, I’m going to be the most powerful woman in this city. Shame you won’t be alive to see it.”

“You’ll never succeed, Marina. He won’t let you.”

“He’ll live long enough to see me get everything I’ve ever wanted,” she says. “He’ll live long enough to see me take back my own Bratva and then take his for good measure. And then, he’ll have to die knowing that he could have been by my side—but he chose you instead.”

She leans in and gives me a sweet smile.

“I wonder if he’ll think you were worth it.”





39





JESSA





The knife is cutting into my back. I can feel the warm trickle of blood beading on my skin.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Marina,” I say.

She sets the gun down at her side. Because apparently, we’re just two women having a conversation now. She doesn’t see me as a threat.

“If you stop this now, you might have a chance to live,” I add.

She scoffs. “You really don’t know shit about him, do you? He’d never let me live now. That’s why I know we’re doomed as a couple. I played my hand and he played his. There’s no going back now. And why would I want to? My plan is working out perfectly.”

“You’re not doing any of this alone, are you?”

“I’ve had support,” she says. “Every don needs her Vors.”

“How many men did you fuck to do this?” I snarl at her.

She smiles. “Just one.”

If that really is the truth, then she’s more talented than I’ve given her credit for. But it’s not like I can trust a single word that comes out of her mouth.

“How did you manage to get in here?”

She smiles. “Haven’t pieced it together yet, have you? I expected Anton to choose smarter, but it’s not like he was planning on keeping you around.”

“You don’t know anything about what he wants,” I grit out.

She raises her eyebrows and gives me a smile. “And I’ll bet you do?”

“I do, actually,” I say. “I know that he thinks I’m strong and capable and more than a match for you.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“It’s exactly what he told me,” I say. “And what he showed me. He wanted me to be protected, and he knew I’d be able to do it myself.”

In one fluid movement, I yank the knife out of my pants and slash my arm towards her. I move with all the confidence that Anton seemed sure I had.

But Marina anticipates the move. She lurches backward, falling off the window seat and dropping to the floor. But I feel some resistance against my blade.

When I look down, I realize that I’ve missed her neck entirely. But I managed to catch her face. Just barely. There’s a thin cut across her right cheek. The line bleeds red and gives her already sinister appearance an extra edge.

She looks furious. More so because her gun has fallen to the ground, inches from my feet. Instead of picking it up, I kick it hard to the side. It twirls under the bed and out of sight.

“You fucking bitch,” she snarls. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Do you like my knife?” I taunt, holding it up a little so that she can see the hilt and the blade. “Anton got it custom-made for me.”

“Don’t you fucking smile at me, you cunt,” she snarls. “That gift means nothing.”

“Then why do you look so threatened?”

Her lip curls. “I am going to carve out your tongue first,” she hisses at me. “I’ll use that precious dagger you’re holding. Then I’ll take your eyes. But don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing. I’ll make sure you’re alive through all of it.”

“You don’t think I’m going to fight you?” I ask. “Of the two of us, which one is bleeding?”

Apparently, she hasn’t realized yet that she’s cut. Her fingers tremble up to her cheek and she touches the blood there.