That’s a lie, and we both know it. But I wonder if he’s willing to take the out, to acknowledge that he’s bitten off far more than he can chew and escape with his life still intact.
I don’t have to wonder for long.
His sneer twists and every trace of civility vanishes from his face. “Do you really imagine I would hand over Viktoria Mikhailov for anything?” he scoffs. “Every man in my Bratva will burn in hell before I give her to you.”
Willow’s chin jerks up. Her eyes fall on me first as the truth sinks in. Then she looks to Belov.
“Viktoria Mikhailov?” she repeats, confusion flickering over her features. “I… That’s not my name. I told you, I told both of you: you’ve got the wrong girl…”
Belov throws back his head and laughs, the kind of laugh that makes your blood run cold. I can sens
