Page 122 of Righteous Enforcer
There isn’t any furniture but the bed and a small table and chair. This isn't the compound. This isn't anywhere I recognize.
I swing my legs off the bed but they buckle when I try to stand. I sink back onto the bed.
I rub my temples, trying to loosen memories of how I got here.
The doctor's parking lot. Gunfire. Men in black SUVs.
Ivan's cold smile as he grabs my arm.
Mirabella screaming, reaching for me as they drag her out of my arms.
The promise to share information I don’t have.
With greater will this time, I drag myself to the door, yanking at the handle. Locked. I pound against the solid wood.
"Let me out!"
No response.
I scan the room for an escape. I move to the window, pushing aside the heavy curtains. The windows are barred with wrought iron.
I’m trapped.
I sit on the bed again as the final memory drops into place. I’m a dead woman.
I have no information to offer Ivan. No valuable intelligence on the Dantes. Nothing worth keeping me alive for. Of course, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell him.
I'm a loose end to tie up, revenge for refusing to work for them any longer.
At least Mirabella is safe.
Adriano will protect her.
My daughter will grow up loved, secure, with all the comforts a girl could need.
The door swings open, and Ivan Vasiliev saunters in like he's the center of the universe. I don’t rise to meet him. I barely even look at him.
"Eva Santoro," he purrs, spreading his arms wide. "How nice to finally have you back. I trust your accommodations are comfortable."
“My door is stuck,” I quip.
His smile is amused. “I could put you in the basement. I’m trying to be cordial here.”
I meet his gaze, seeing how his eyes are similar to his brothers, a cool icy blue, but where Maksim’s held cruelty and cunning, Ivan's burn with something more desperate. Like he’s a man with something to prove. It actually reminds me of Alessandro, who I now know has struggled to get his foothold in the family business since his father’s death.
“How does knocking me out fit into being cordial?”
“Tsk, tsk. You were attacking me.” His eyes narrow, turn lethal. “I could have killed you and dropped you on the road in front of your child. But it doesn’t have to be like that.”
"Why am I here, Ivan?"
"Such hostility." He shakes his head and sits in a chair near the window. "You see me as the villain of your story, don't you? Just like the Dantes painted my brother."
"You kidnapped me and my child. How am I supposed to see you?"
"I returned your child safely. Something the Dantes might not have done in my position. You know this."
The worst part is he might be right, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of agreement.
