Page 29 of Pas de Trois
Chapter 7
Ezra
My blue-eyed girl and I stand side-by-side on the gravel surrounding the helipad as an oversized helicopter gradually descends. My heart is thumping like crazy against my rib cage. I reach out and snatch Anya’s tiny hand in mine, tangling my fingers with hers and locking us together.
I don’t know what will happen and the uncertainty makes every muscle in my body seize with tension. I glance over at Anya as the chopper lands, the blades gradually slowing in their rotation.
She takes in a heavy breath and lifts her chin a little higher, pulling her shoulders back. I watch her face as she lets the coldness freeze her in determination—the same coldness she possessed when I first met her. She needs that now; she needs the fierceness that allows her to do what needs to be done.
I know all of that, but it still stings when her shields come up and she pulls her fingers free from mine. Still, she glances over at me appraisingly, asking me with her eyes if I understand and I nod in reassurance.
She needs to stand on her own as the regal, worthy queen of Mikhailov Manor.
The doors open and Murphy O’Shea is the first person out of the helicopter. He jumps out with intention, lands heavily on the asphalt, and pauses just long enough to straighten his waistcoat. His white shirt sleeves are already rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tattoo-covered forearms.
His eyes fall on us as Leo Leblanc climbs out behind him, looking svelte in comparison to Murphy’s broad, muscular frame. Murphy charges toward us, long fast strides bringing him swiftly to where we stand. I start to move, to sidestep in front of Anya to protect her against his onrushing force, but she stops me, placing her hand on the crease of my arm.
She steps forward.
Fuck.
She steps forward and I’ve never been so terrified in my life. My pulse thrums, my fists clench, my muscles ache to fight for her, to protect her, to keep her safe. But her life depends on negotiation, not fists and blood and violence.
But then I realize she never needed me to stand in front of her for protection…because he’s not going after her.
He’s coming straight for me.
Murphy’s jaw is set, eyes determined, and I’m overwhelmed by the surge of adrenaline inside me. But my instinct still pulls me toward Anya because I’d jump in front of a bullet for her without a second thought. I glance at her, and because my attention is on her, Murphy catches me off-guard with a sucker punch to my cheek.
The rings that he wears mar my face, adding an extra oomph to the shooting pain that bursts across my cheek. His other fist collides with my gut, doubling me over. When he hits me in the stomach a second time, I slump to my knees with a grunt and a groan.
The fucker packs a killer punch.
I lift my head just as he moves his attention to Anya, pointing a finger in her face. “You are proving to be far more trouble than your worth, lass.”
She takes him on with a deadly stare. “I’m worth the entire fortune of the Mikhailov family,” she says with the most convincing coldness.
Murphy chuckles, glancing back over his shoulder as Leo helps Renata off the aircraft, then his cousin Cordelia. “You sure have got a sizeable pair of balls, woman.”
“Bigger than yours, I imagine,” she returns with a lifted brow.
Murphy cocks his head to the side. “Get in the car. I’ll drive.”
Anya sets her jaw. “I have guests to greet first.”
Murphy cracks his knuckles with another small laugh. “You’re quite a proud little bitch for destroying two families, aren’t you? If we didn’t have to handle this as a board matter, I promise you, I’d have strangled you to death by now.”
I plant one foot on the ground, ready to rise to my feet, practically trembling with rage, but Renata marches toward me with one long finger outstretched, pointed directly at me.
“Stay on your knees if you wish to live beyond this night, slave.”
My jaw tenses. I open my mouth to retort, but Anya snaps at me, just like she used to in the beginning, “Mal’chik. Don’t say a goddamn word.”
Fuck, I want to fight.
I want to argue.
I want to shout.
