The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,98

already knew her plans because I’ve been watching a lot of the people in K’s house, and she was the easiest to hack, being a dumb broad who uses an android phone and doesn’t guard her information.”

Who calls women broads these days? I’m staring at this horror of a man, trying to keep calm, trying to keep my mind from fracturing.

“Biggest mistake he made letting that sexy little wench keep her phone,” Popov muses. “I think he knew she wouldn’t call anyone for help, but he didn’t know that I was watching everyone in this house and monitoring their activity. Do you know Vasily likes the most vanilla porn. Surprised the shit out of me. I’d have thought that one would be into the kink for sure. Anyway, so Liza was emailing back and forth to a fixer who was helping her sort accommodation in South America, along with bank accounts, etcetera. Issue was, no way would she have got herself out of the country without Konstantin finding her. So I stepped in with an offer she couldn’t refuse. I helped her, saved her really, and that thick fuck, Denis. So now, she’s paying me back. You’ll get to see her again very soon.”

I can’t wait.

My mouth is so dry it hurts to swallow, and I lick my lips trying to coat my throat.

“It’s an anxiety reaction, extreme stress, dry mouth,” Popov says.

The drive we take isn’t long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and we arrive at a dark, winding lane, leading to a big, gothic looking house.

“How apt,” I say to Popov.

“It really is, isn’t it?”

When we get inside, I sag against the wall as Popov and his men take their weapons off and pat one another on the back for a job well done.

All I can think about is Vasily lying bleeding out on the hallway carpet, and Konstantin left vulnerable without Andrius, or Vasily, by his side.

“Oh, there you are. Nice to see you again, whore.”

The sugary sweet tones of Liza have me looking to the doorway at the end of the corridor we’re in. She’s wearing a diaphanous pink dress that flows over her bump in waves, her hair is in a tight bun, and her face is dripping in makeup.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Popov asks her.

Her face hardens. “Yes. I’m sure. I know the man. I’ve been around him long enough, and I know he’s falling for this little bitch. You tell him she’ll be sent back to him in pieces, and K will do whatever you want.”

Popov eyes me. “She’s so … ordinary,” he says. “Pretty, but nothing astonishing.”

“I think that might just be the point, ironically,” Liza drawls.

“Where’s Denis?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “He outlived his usefulness.”

“So where is he?”

“He’s six feet under,” Popov snaps. “I put him there once he’d given me the information my man needed to hack into every remaining corner and facet of Konstantin’s life.”

I frown, confused. “But…What usefulness do you have?” I ask Liza, and then it sinks in.

She gives Popov puppy dog eyes, and he grins at her.

Oh, God, I’m going to be sick. She’s a total sociopath, of the kind that makes people like Andrius and Konstantin look soft and fluffy. She let the father of her child be murdered, and now she’s doling out sexual favors to the man who did the murdering. She hates me too, which is bad, bad news for me.

At first, I had thought she hated me because she loved Konstantin, but she isn’t capable of love. No, she hates me because she saw he liked me, and her ego couldn’t take it. It’s as simple and pathetic as that.

“I thought you were in too delicate a position for sex,” I snap at her.

“I have a mouth and hands, and unlike you, I know how to use them.”

“And an ass,” Popov adds, and her smile falters a little, but only for a moment, before she pastes it in place.

“We are going to give your beloved a little call,” Popov says.

He grabs my wrist and drags me into a room, and there’s a man standing in one corner. He’s utterly terrifying. A huge, jagged scar runs from the corner of his right eye, down his face, through his lip and under his jaw. My god, who did that to him?

He turns dark brown eyes my way and smiles. It’s the smile of the devil himself, and so cold it could freeze the surface of the sun.

“Is this his