He snarls, rolling to flip us while I’m distracted. The edge of the coffee table hits my shoulder right on the nerve. I hiss in a breath as he throws me off him, flexing my arm to try to stave off any cramps.
“What’s your fucking problem?” Pavel sneers, tearing away from my grasp as he scrambles to his feet. As long as he’s moving away from me, I’m fine. The only thing he can do to cause me any issue is walk out the front door, and I’m standing long before he gets the chance.
I’m smirking when he pivots, rushing toward the kitchen, probably in search of a knife. Lucky for me, Pavel’s doesn’t seem like the type to cook much. When I checked the room, other than a standard set of silverware and a single, matching set of dishes, it was bare of any suitable weapons.
He swears as he pulls open a drawer, finding it empty.
Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I pull him back and twist as I slam him against the wall. His eyes dart around wildly as he tries to slip free, his nostrils flaring. Before he can brace to swing out again, I pin a hand around his throat, squeezing tight. His hands claw against my sleeves as he tries to push me back.
In an ideal world, I’d beat him to death. I’d make sure he feels every moment of his suffering before I finally snapped his neck.
There’s a gurgling noise, the capillaries in his eyes bursting as his attempts to fight back grow weaker with each passing moment.
We’re about the same size, but Pavel’s slow. That doesn’t make it a quick or easy process to strangle him, though. It always takes ages, and it’s harder than you think. Even when he eventually passes out, I have to keep up the pressure until I’m beyond sure his heart is no longer beating.
I can’t afford to gamble on this. Not when the price could be Blair’s life.
I count the seconds, waiting a full two minutes after his hands fall away and his legs go limp before I let go. As Pavel crumples to the ground without any support, I’m filled with a sense of disgust.
He has caused so much unnecessary grief for everyone associated with his father that it’s a wonder no one’s done this for me yet.
A quick glance around the room tells me that everything is still in order. The furniture has moved a little thanks to our tussle, but there isn’t any debris to pick up, and his shirt soaked up most of the blood that poured from his nose. Still, I take a moment to wash the remnants off my hands, wanting to rid myself of any part of this.
If I want to, I can move his body and stage it somewhere, put on a whole production to pull Maksim’s attention elsewhere when Pavel’s finally found, but honestly? Neither of them is worth the effort.
I leave his corpse in a heap in the kitchen, only taking time to wipe my fingerprints off his doorknob as I close it behind me, leaving it unlocked just like he would have.
Chapter 21
Blair
Hair sticks to my forehead as I throw my head back, laughing at Nadya shouldering her way through a group of men that can’t keep their eyes off her. I wouldn’t have guessed that someone as thin as her would be so effective at shoving a grown man out of her way, but she makes it look effortless.
She looks back at me with a smile, her hand firm on my arm as she pulls me toward the bar. She says something, but I can’t hear it over the crowd and the roar of the music. I shake my head, already dreading how my ears are going to ring tomorrow. Raising a single shoulder, she points to the shots on the bar, raising a single brow in challenge.
One that I meet readily.
The alcohol burns on the way down, but it’s exactly what I need to be able to let go, to make myself behere.
We’ve only had a couple drinks tonight, but they’ve been enough to help numb the thoughts pounding away at the back of my skull.
Thoughts like the fact that Andrei kept his condo. And still keeps a full closet there. Like it’s a place he regularly returns to.
Which tells me he’s a man who’s not planning on sticking around long-term, despite any assurances he’s given me.
But that’s not a useful thought right now, so I shake my head to get rid of it and grab onto Nadya’s arm, urging her to head back to the dance floor with me.
I can’t do anything about Andrei. I can’t do anything about how he feels or what he thinks, or even what he does when I’m not around. All I can do right now is try to enjoy myself.
Throwing myself into the rhythm of the pounding music, I share a smile with Nadya as she throws her hands in the air and twirls around, wild and carefree. We dance with reckless abandon, pretending the mass of people around us doesn’t exist.
And despite the worry in the back of my head, it’s fun. Letting go and ignoring everything else with good company isexactlywhat I needed, and I wish I’d done this sooner.
I’m jolted back to reality when someone moves into our space, shifting like he’s trying to get between us. All hints of amusement drop from Nadya’s face as she rolls her eyes, reaching around him to grab my hand as she urges me to follow her away from him and toward the VIP lounge.
“Next time we hang out, I’m taking you to a pottery class,” she grouses as the bouncer nods his chin at her and lets us through. “Somewhere we can actually talk, and we don’t have to worry about random dudes crashing the party.”
I can see the wisdom in what she’s saying, but still…
