Page 111 of Ruthless Sin

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She comes with her eyes open and her face an inch below mine. Her mouth opens. The sound is full-throated. The room holds it.

Her face holds for a half-second after.

There’s a tomorrow on her face. With me in it. The maybe is all over her.

It kills me.

It fucking kills me.

Because I saw this maybe before. I saw it on Yelena’s face in the safehouse. The morning before the morning she died. She looked at me and said Maybe my sister gets to learn the violin again. Maybe I get to teach her.

Yelena’s maybe died with her in a basement in Moscow.

Mila’s maybe is going to die tomorrow in this house when I tell her the truth.

And I’m the one who’s going to kill it.

I keep fucking her.

I fuck her while she’s still wearing the maybe. While she still thinks she gets to keep me.

I’m going to hell for this.

It builds again under me. Her hand closes on my forearm. Her nails go in.

The sound she makes is raw. Broken. Beautiful.

I come inside her with my teeth on the chain at her throat and her name in my mouth.

“Dio.Mila.”

I don’t say mine.

I hold the word in my teeth.

She’s asleep on my chest.

Her face turned into my shoulder.

Her right hand on my ribs.

The chain at her throat is moving with her breath.

I can’t breathe.

The lie is a hand around my throat.

I’ve lied in interrogations and negotiations and wars.

I’ve never lied to a woman I love.

I love her.

The mug of milk is on the nightstand.

The Pushkin is on the side table.

The file is on Alexei’s desk by morning Moscow time.

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