I settle against a wall and fold my arms across my chest, refusing to look at her, even though her silent presence fills the room.
Like Ravil told me when I was driving here. I need to keep a cool head—for Nikolai’s sake. And that means keeping my fucking distance from Natasha, my own personal detonator.
4
Natasha
I really need a piece of chocolate. Or a whole barrel-full. My adrenals are tanking from the stress, and I’m shaky all over and running on empty.
“Natasha, we’ll have a word with you now.” Ravil tips his head toward the inner door of the lab.
Maxim follows him out.
For a moment, I can’t move as ice-cold fear grips my throat, making it hard to breathe. Those dry sobs that hit me earlier in the vehicle return, and I stumble toward the door nearly hyperventilating.
Dima comes up to me from behind and catches my nape with a firm grip. “Hey.”
I can’t look at him. I know he hates me. Ravil hates me. I have no idea what they’re going to do to me, but it can’t be good.
“Hey,” Dima repeats with more authority. “Look at me,” he says in a low voice, meant only for my ears.
I work to calm my pulse as I meet his blue gaze. Surprisingly, it’s not as cold now—it seems more troubled than angry.
“Tell me now before we go in there—did you know?” he demands, brows down.
I shake my head, tears spearing my eyes. “I swear to God I didn’t.”
Dima searches my face for a moment then gives a nod. “If you’re telling the truth, you’ll be all right.” His thumb lightly strokes over my pulse, sending tingles of awareness everywhere. “Ravil’s not a monster. Just go in there and answer his questions honestly.”
A ridiculous snort-sniff sound comes out of me as I try to stifle my sobs, and I turn away to hide my embarrassment.
He’s being kind—I should be grateful. This is the Dima I thought I knew. But I can’t get over the threat he made back in his car.
He dies—you die.
He meant it. I saw the threat in his icy gaze.
So I’m not sure I believe I’m going to walk out of this meeting safely.
Dima grasps my nape again and steers me down the hall. Ravil and Maxim are standing in the reception area of the veterinarian clinic. It’s a pleasant reception area. The walls are painted a muted teal, the concrete floors are stained purple, and the furniture has modern simplicity.
“Have a seat.” Ravil points to one of the chairs. As I settle into it, he turns a chair around backward and straddles it facing me, resting his forearms on the back. Dima and Maxim flank him with their chairs. The Spanish Inquisition.
Well, at least they don’t have pliers out to pull off my fingernails. Yet. Still, I can’t stop shivering.
It doesn’t help that Ravil says nothing for a moment, just considers me. Finally, he asks, “Why were you at my game?”
I will myself not to cry and draw a breath. “Alex wanted to go. He was my date.” When Ravil says nothing, I stumble on. “I met him at the gym last month, and he asked me out. He’s, um, Russian, also. Or half-Russian.” I lick my lips, darting a glance at Maxim then back to Ravil. “We’ve been out a couple times—nothing serious.” I resist changing my gaze to Dima when I say that part.
“When he found out where I lived, he seemed sort of excited. He’d heard of you guys. He knew Ravil’s name, even.”
No way, he’d gushed. You live in the Kremlin? Do you know that’s owned by the Russian mafiya?
My face flames hot as I realize how I was played. How stupid I was. I thought he was genuinely interested in me, and I let myself get used.
“I don’t know, he acted like he was sort of a fan-boy of the bratva. Like he wanted to join as a Russian heritage thing. He wanted an introduction. I wasn’t super comfortable with that. Then he told me he heard you guys had a card game every Friday and asked if I could get him in. I wasn’t sure about that, either, but I thought maybe I could go and bring him along.”
Nothing shows on Ravil’s face, but I sense his judgment of me. “And you told Dima all this when you asked to go?”
I swallow. Fuck.
This looks bad for me. Really bad.
“No,” I choke. I scrape off the fingernail polish on my thumbnail with frantic movements. “I, um… he… I don’t know why I didn’t tell him about Alex.”
Ravil cocks a brow like he doesn’t believe me.
My stomach churns. I don’t dare look at Dima, but I feel the weight of his glare.
When I don’t say anything more, Ravil prompts, “That’s not good enough, Natasha.”
A tear escapes my right eye and slides down my cheek. I duck my head to hide it, switching my anxious scraping to the other thumbnail. “It just felt awkward, I guess.”
“Awkward,” Ravil echoes, doubt tinging his tone.
I don’t want to explain the stupidity of it all. How I wanted Dima to ask me out. How talking about another guy wasn’t going to help that lost cause. Ugh, and on some level, maybe I hoped showing up with a guy who was interested in me would make him jealous. Give him the push he needed.
But all of that seems trivial now. This wasn’t about my dating life. It was about a federal agent infiltrating the bratva, and I abetted him. And in the process, Dima’s twin got shot. Something he’ll never forgive me for.
So yeah, the chances of him asking me out now or in the future are nil.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, my voice scratchy with tears.
Ravil gives it another moment of excruciating silence before he says, “I am disappointed, Natasha. I consider you and your mother to be family. You were under my protection. This feels like a violation of trust.”
I drag in a hiccuping sob and hold it, trying not to burst into tears. “I know.” I bob my head. "I'm sorry," I repeat.
“You knew nothing about him being an FBI agent?”
“I swear I didn’t. I had no idea. I realize now how stupid I was.”
“What do you know about him?” Ravil asks.
I nibble my lip, trying to remember anything that might be helpful. “He went to Illinois State for college. I think he was a wrestler. He works at the gym where I take kickboxing.”
“Where does he live?”
I try to think if he mentioned anything. “I-I don’t know. Our dates were casual. No, um, hook-ups or anything.” This time I do sneak a look in Dima’s direction, but the anger I see on his face makes me quickly look away, the knot in my stomach growing tighter.
“What else can you tell us about him? When did he first start working at the gym? Has he been there all along?”
Oh, God. All the red flags were there. I rub my temples. “No, he just got the job about a month ago. He asked me out for coffee after class a few weeks ago. And then we had dinner last week.” Why did confessing this make me want to hide under my chair?
Oh yeah, it was the glower coming from Dima’s direction.
Ravil sends a glance in Dima’s direction then blows out his breath. “Well, Natasha. I need you to make this right. You will go with Dima to the cabin to nurse Nikolai back to health. You’ll stay there as long as it takes, no complaints.”