Page 60 of Ruthless Sin
A voice, low and amused, saying my father’s name like he owns it.
Dmitri’s daughter.
The hand tightens.
Dmitri’s daughter.
I try to move and can’t.
Dmitri’s daughter.
I’m screaming in the dream. The scream builds in my chest, climbs my throat, tears out of my mouth against the pillow.
“Alexei—”
The room snaps back.
I’m on my back. The covers are on the floor. My hand is fisted in the sheet so hard my nails are cutting into my palm. The chain at my throat is soaked. Sweat or tears, I don’t know which.
My breath comes in fragments, my heart slamming against my ribs, loud in my ears, the room too dark and the walls too close.
He’s here. He found me. My body hasn’t caught up to the room yet. I’m still in the dream, still on my knees on that concrete, and the voice through the door could be his.
His voice. Through the door.
Low. Not Alexei’s voice.
The basement. The man who carried me without making me fight him. Nico. Not Alexei. Nico.
“Tishe.”
Quiet.
“Ty v bezopasnosti.”
You’re safe.
My breath catches, stops, starts again.
I sit up. My hand is fisted in the sheet. My heart hasn’t slowed.
His voice again, low.
“Mila.Mozhno voyti?”
Mila. May I come in?
The first sound out of my mouth isn’t a word. Half breath, half syllable. Small enough he shouldn’t hear it through the wood.
Through the door, even quieter: “Skazhi ‘da’ ili ‘net.’”
Say yes or no.
I don’t say yes.
He’s there. Of course he’s there.
I’m going to open the door myself.
