My prisoner.
I will make her talk.
The bratva put a gun in my hand at age thirteen. Gave me freedom, a sense of belonging, and the family I never had.
There’s no way I’m going to let this slip of a woman harm my boss.
No matter how beautiful she is.
How beguiling.
How painfully fragile.
Hurting a woman, however, is not possible.
So I’ll find other ways to torture her. Other, far more pleasing ways.
And in the end, my little prisoner will reveal all her secrets.
In the end: she will be mine.
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I brush her hair back from her face. “You’re a warrior, not a princess, aren’t you?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “No more war. Just peace now.”
It’s true. While Kira has taken a position on my security team for the building, she spends her free time on more creative endeavors. Learning pottery from Kat. Baking. Taking kickboxing and yoga.
She’s blooming into more and more happiness every day, expanding my own capacity for joy. Love. And yes, peace.
She’s my best failure as gatekeeper, crashing past all my defenses, indelibly into my heart.
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