9. Chapter 9

nine

Leonid

T his whole mess started because my cock decided to think for both of us. It hijacked my brain and commandeered my body.

Chyort voz’mi! Risking my cover for a hot stranger in red—what was I thinking?

After taking out a dozen men in the Viper’s Fucking Nest, I’m out, and Red is sprawled unconscious in the backseat. She’s not some random damsel; no assassin goes after nobodies .

“ Yob tvoyu mat’ ,” I snarl as a gunshot splits the night. Maksim reacts instantly, slamming the gas pedal down, the tires screeching against the asphalt.

More shots ping off the car as I dive into the backseat. I pull Red closer so she lies across my lap.

Maksim, his face obscured by a mask that makes him look like some kind of Slavic Batman, meets my eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Are you okay, Pakhan? ” His voice is calm, but I can almost hear the barrage of questions he’s biting back about tonight’s mess.

“ Suka ! I knew this wasn’t just another sex club!” I growl, feeling the blood pumping in my veins.

Maksim takes a sharp turn, the car nearly tipping as he maneuvers through the dark streets. We both scan our surroundings, making sure no one is tailing us.

“I told you, Pakhan , I know who’s behind this club,” Maksim says, his voice as steady as his driving now.

“Tell me,” I order, glancing at Red.

She’s still wearing her mask, her dress hiked up so high on her thighs it might as well be a belt.

I hiss in frustration; now’s really not the time for my balls to tighten up. I tug it down, but the top slips, barely covering her tits.

The fuck kinda dress is this? A scarf pretending to be clothes?

I shoot Maksim a look, but he’s focused on the road. Scoffing, I drape my jacket over her.

“A guy named Mark Bateman,” Maksim replies, eyes on the road. “But he’s not tied to any of our usual rivals. He’s an outsider.”

“Find out everything about this Mark Bateman mudak ,” I order. “I want to know what brand of govno his dog eats for breakfast.”

As I speak, I let my fingers casually brush a few stray hairs from Red’s face. Her skin is soft as grebanyi silk. It takes every ounce of control not to rip that maddening mask off and see the face of this devchonka driving me insane.

Red stirs, a weak moan escaping her lips. She’s fighting the drugs hard.

A regular tigritsa, aren’t you, kitten?

“Where to, Pakhan ?” Maksim asks, eyes flicking to me in the mirror.

My gaze traces over her curves; the heat pooling in my gut has fuck all to do with the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

Blyat, I haven’t been this obsessed with a baba since my balls dropped.

“The Matryoshka.” It’s one of our most secure hotels, a regular konspirativnaya kvartira . I keep a room there for VIP guests… and this little kitten is definitely VIP.

“What’s the plan with her?” Maksim yanks off his mask with a grimace, tossing it aside like it burns.

“I have some questions. Need to know who she works for.” I study her masked face, jaw clenched.

And once I find out, there’ll be hell to pay if they’ve touched a hair on her head.

But first things first. Let’s get her alone and peel back some layers. And not just the ones she’s wearing.

“Drop me at the service entrance,” I demand, my arms tightening around her body possessively. As if she’ll suddenly disappear.

Maksim shoots me an incredulous look. “You sure about this…?”

I meet his stare dead on, my tone brooking no argument. “ Ya v etom pizdets kak uveren .”

I’m so fucking sure that it hurts. And if she’s as dangerous as I suspect…

I glance back down at Red, a predatory gleam in my eye.

Well, that just makes the game more fun, doesn’t it, kitten?