Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
31
ALISON
Emanuela led us through a maze of hallways, finally stopping in a quiet room with a huge, waist-high glass water feature at its center. It was in the shape of a flower, a gurgling pool six feet across surrounded by thick glass petals. Three of Emanuela’s guards took up positions around the room. Another two waited outside to stop anyone from coming in. My chest went tight. Yakov wouldn’t be able to help us: we were on our own.
Emanuela jumped up onto the edge of the water feature and sat there kicking her legs. “Talk.”
Gennadiy took a deep, calming breath. “Someone tried to kill this woman and frame me for it. I need to know if it was you.”
Emanuela cocked her head to the side. “Who is she to you?”
“She’s FBI,” grated Gennadiy. “She’s the FBI agent assigned to catch me. Was it you?”
“So there are no personal feelings?” asked Emanuela.
“She’s FBI,” Gennadiy told her. “Of course not.”
That stung. It was so...dismissive. So the kiss had been just a mistake, like he said.
Emanuela braced her hands behind her and leaned back, stretching like a cat as she considered. She extended one perfect leg and pointed her toe at me. “Hit her.”
Gennadiy and I both blinked at her. “What?” he asked, after a second.
“Hit her,” said Emanuela, staring right into my eyes. “A good, big slap across the face.”
“No!” snapped Gennadiy. I could hear him fighting against his anger, trying to maintain control.
“She’s FBI. What’s the problem?” asked Emanuela, her eyes wide with mock innocence.
Gennadiy snapped. “Emanuela! I’m not here to play games!” He advanced on her, but Emanuela didn’t so much as flinch. She just watched him, delighted, and her bodyguards drew their guns and pointed them at Gennadiy.
“Do it,” I said quietly. “I can take it.”
“I know you can,” said Gennadiy stiffly. “That’s not the point.” He glared at Emanuela. “I’m not doing it.”
Emanuela grinned. “You like her,” she said, thrilled, “that’s why you’re helping her. But you don’t like her enough to be with her.” She pouted at me sadly and stage-whispered. “Is it because of the leg?”
My face burned, and I gave her a death stare. She ate it up, loving my hatred.
“Emanuela! Did you order a hit on this woman, yes or no?” growled Gennadiy.
Emanuela rolled her eyes. “I deal with so many people, Gennadiy, it’s hard to remember.” She sighed and jumped down from the table, then snapped her fingers in the air, calling me like a dog. “Come here. Let me look at you.”
Gennadiy gave me a worried look, but I shook my head: it’s fine. I’d play along if that’s what it took to get some answers. I walked slowly around the table to her, painfully aware that this might well be the woman who wanted me dead.
She smiled at me as I drew close. “Do you want to know a secret?” She put her lips to my ear. “Gennadiy’s fucked lots of women.” She looked sideways, at Gennadiy. “But I’ve never known him to help one.”
Like an idiot, I followed her gaze and looked at Gennadiy.
Emanuela grabbed the back of my head and rammed it down, bending me at the waist over the rim of the water feature and dunking my head in the water. I screamed, which wasted most of my air.
I heard Gennadiy yell. “Let her go!”
Bent over and off balance, I thrashed and fought, my hair swirling like dark tentacles across my vision. But Emanuela had the strength of madness. I could feel my ears and the back of my head were still out of the water: maybe she wanted me to hear because it was just my face she was holding under. But just my face would drown me just fine. Already, my chest was tight with the need to breathe.
Through the thick glass, I had a distorted view of Gennadiy’s legs running forward. He stopped right in front of the water feature, close enough to touch, but I couldn’t reach him through the glass. “Emanuela, stop it!” he snapped. “Let her up!”
“No,” said Emanuela.
I struggled frantically, but she bent one of my arms up behind my back to hold me in place, and with my feet clear of the floor, I couldn’t get any traction. My lungs began to burn, and I’d never felt so powerless. She was smaller than me, she didn’t have my martial arts training, and she was still going to manage to kill me. The panic clawed at my chest. Please let me breathe!
The distorted gray mass that was Gennadiy sprinted around the table, and I heard the click of a gun. He’d grabbed Emanuela and, I guessed, had his gun to her head, standing behind her so her bodyguards didn’t dare shoot. “Let. Her. Go!” he snarled.
But Emanuela’s hand didn’t move. “You can’t kill me, Gennadiy,” she said calmly. “If you shot me, my men would kill you before my body hit the floor. And then they’d kill Radimir, and Valentin, and Mikhail. So you’re going to stand here and watch her die. You wouldn’t risk everything just to save her. Look: she’s nearly done.”