Kurt (Quintessence Book 8) by Serena Akeroyd

Author:Serena Akeroyd [Akeroyd, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-29T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“What were you waiting for?”

The question escaped her lips before she could contain it. She didn’t want to ask the man who’d been tortured. Didn’t want to acknowledge him, but that fire in her gut wouldn’t allow her to hold her tongue.

She wanted answers.

Andrei’s hand tightened on her shoulder, and though his aftershave was a sweet and sultry scent that usually had her thoughts heading for the bedroom, this time, it didn’t.

She pulled free from him, rejected his touch.

They’d lied to her.

They’d all fucking lied to her, because she knew, without a shadow of a doubt that was the truth.

Okay, so maybe not Devon.

If he’d known, he’d have blurted it out before now. The man was incapable of keeping secrets. Even official ones. One that required him to sign a document declaring it was an act of goddamn treason if he spilled the beans on any of his work. . . .

Yeah, even that didn’t count.

Before she’d started working for the guys, they’d hired Polish and other Eastern European housekeepers to clean the house in the vain hope they wouldn’t understand Devon when he spilled state secrets.

That was how bad he was at keeping them.

So, no, Devon hadn’t lied to her, but the others had because Andrei and Sean wouldn’t have kept this shit to themselves, would they?

“Well?” Sascha demanded, stepping closer to the beaten man, and approaching with care considering the puddle around him wasn’t something she wanted to stand in.

“He is in no state to talk,” Vasily countered, and she released a hiss.

“Whose fault is that? What was this about if you weren’t going to ask him questions?”

“Fun?” Vasily retorted, cocking a brow at her in a way which felt like a flame to a pool of gas.

She wanted to scream. No, better, she wanted to hit him with something. Anything.

What the fuck was he doing? Sitting there like some feudal lord of old, beating up men who did his grandson harm, corrupting that grandson who, until now, until her, had been a law-abiding citizen.

The sheer logistics of bringing Horowich here blew her mind.

They’d kidnapped him.

Transported him across Europe, brought him here, then imprisoned him.

They’d beaten him.

And now what?

After all that, they weren’t going to let him live, were they?

For the first time, she felt the shadow of the Bratva crawl over her spine. Except this time, it wasn’t a shadow. It felt like it loomed overhead, and she understood how fucking petrified Damocles must have been having that damn sword dangling above him.

Worse still, a part of her wished. . . .

Her mouth grew dry as she tried to stop herself from processing that thought.

But she couldn’t.

Couldn’t lie to herself, couldn’t hide from the truth.

She wished she’d never heard those thwacks. Wished she hadn’t followed her nose and sneaked down here.

If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t know what was happening and. . . .

God, how big a coward was she?

“Can you make him speak?” she bit off, her aggression aimed at Vasily, no longer her lovers.

She felt

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