“I’m not taking sides. I find you all a bit despicable.” The dry humor was supposed to lighten the mood, but Ivan didn’t find it funny. Unable to handle the grave tension rolling off him, I announced, “Maybe I could find a key to your cell.” I wondered if Ronan had a doggy guard around here with the key in its mouth like in Pirates of the Caribbean.
“I would ask if he has touched you, but I already know the answer. Out of all the men in Moscow, you had to go and fuck him?”
His words chafed me raw. Had he watched the video? The thought made me sick, so in an effort to hold down the nausea, I ignored the statement. “Maybe with the right leverage, we can pop this door right off.” I glanced around in an attempt to find something useful.
“How could you not see through him, Mila? I thought you were smarter than that.”
A girl could only be called an idiot so many times. I halted my search as heat ran up my neck.
“You know what? Maybe I wouldn’t have been so stupid if you and Papa didn’t shelter me my entire life.” Sarcasm took over. “I’m sure college has a course called ‘How to Not Fuck Mobsters.’ If only I was allowed to attend . . .”
“This is not a joke.”
“I’m not laughing. I might have made a mistake, but so did you and my papa by not telling me the truth. If someone hadn’t killed that boy, none of this would be happening.”
“You are just going to believe everything D’yavol tells you?”
“My only other option is to believe someone who’s lied to me for years. The pickings are looking a little slim. Is there a third party nearby I can ask?”
“There is no need for a third party. You should stand with your papa. With me.” He practically seethed.
The thing was, I wanted to be loyal. I wanted an easy route to take; to believe my papa was the lesser of two evils. But now, all I could see when I thought of my father was a mutilated boy and a woman bleeding out on our library floor. When I closed my eyes and thought of the other evil . . . my stance was too conflicted to comprehend.
Ivan must have seen the uncertainty behind my eyes, and it angered him. His jaw tightened. He stepped toward me, flicking a glance behind me, to a high point in the room. When his gaze slid back to mine, something underhanded, almost devious, flickered within. It was the first time I’d seen that kind of darkness in him, and the sight raised the hair on the back of my neck.
“Be honest with me. He has not hurt you?”
I didn’t understand where this was going, but my stomach tilted with the feeling I wouldn’t like the end result.
Uneasily, I shook my head.
“And he will not?” He moved closer—as close as the bars would allow. My hands grew clammy; my heart beat fast. It felt like Ronan was standing behind me and that I was sandwiched between two men on a battlefield who had every intention of killing each other. I didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, but I realized then, I already had.
“Ivan . . . I—”
“Answer the question.”
The indecision tore me in half. My gut told me Ronan wouldn’t hurt me physically, but it also braced for a flood that would wash me away. I didn’t want to leave Ivan to worry about me, so even though I didn’t wholly believe it, I whispered, “No.”
Ivan ran a thumb across my cheek. The suggestion in the touch expanded unease in my stomach, the caress not evoking a sliver of the heat certain inked fingers did. Why couldn’t this burn? Why couldn’t I want this?
“If I am going to die,” he said with a dark form of amusement, “I may as well go out with a bang.”
I didn’t have time to process the statement before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my lips to his between the bars. Shock kept my mouth uncompromising for a second, but beneath his encouraging pressure, my lips softened and complied.
His tongue slid into my mouth, and I met it with my own, praying for the heat, the ache, the desperation I should feel—needed to feel. Warmth spread in my stomach, convincing me to kiss him harder and skim my hands