The Killer’s Vow by Aria R. Blue
Simon
“You’ve come highly recommended,” Maxim Reznikov says, taking a drag of his cigar. “But can I count on you?”
“To do my job? Absolutely,” I reply.
Back at the Institute, I learned to shape-shift.
People wanted different things from me, so the only way to survive was to be a different person for everybody.
I learned at a young age that people only want to see the parts of you that they like.
So I present them with the version of me they want to see.
And that is how I find myself in Maxim Reznikov’s office, about to be appointed as Vera’s new bodyguard.
“My youngest daughter is still missing,” he admits. “It’s been a week since she left.”
By the purple under his eyes, it’s clear he’s losing sleep over this.
Whether it’s his daughter’s safety he’s worried about or his own pride, it has taken a toll on him.
“I’ll do what I can to help with that as well,” I say. “Have you collected any digital footprint?”
The Pakhan of the Chicago Bratva shakes his head.
His gaze rests on the garden outside as he speaks. “Her bank accounts were frozen. She’s only using cash. She probably bought a burner phone, but no attempts have been made to contact her sister or her friends.”
Clever girl, I think.
A movement in the backyard behind him catches my eye.
A flash of wild brown curls.
My heartbeat gallops, but I make my face appear unemotional.
The cigar-scented room smells of cloves and eucalyptus. I focus on that.
“You’ll be required to sign an NDA,” Maxim Reznikov says, sliding a thick stack of papers toward me.
“I’ll have my lawyer go through it,” I say, neatly tucking the papers into my briefcase.
He studies me for a moment.
“Be careful around her.”
“I don’t believe in things like curses.”
“Neither do I. That’s why I want you to be careful,” he says, blowing out a smoke ring.
I wait until he’s done being a poser. “How would you feel about teaching her some basic self-defense?”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
I shrug, as if I don’t care about the idea much. “Just in case. It might come in handy.”
Especially because she’s his daughter.
And Maxim Reznikov has multiple enemies who want nothing more than to watch his heart bleed.
Because of the life they live, trouble follows the entire family. There’s a bull’s-eye on their back at all times.
But I don’t say any of these things.
It’s not what he wants to hear.
“That’s why I’m hiring you,” he says, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “To protect her and keep her confined.”
Confined.
His word choice makes my scalp bristle.
Vera is a tigress. Beautiful, restless animals aren’t meant for confinement.
Especially when they’re alone.
I tip my head down slightly while keeping my shoulders square. The carefully designed body language portrays subservience from a strong man.
“Konechno.” Of course.
“Also, the guesthouse is yours for the duration of your stay here,” he says.
“Thank you,” I reply. “Can I get a tour of the house first?”
Maxim nods, picking up his phone to call someone when a knock comes on his office door.
I still.
I already know who’s on the other side.
“Papa?” Her voice is Cupid’s bow aimed straight at my heart.
“Vera, come in,” Maxim says, putting his cigar out before his daughter walks in. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
I twist in my seat.
She’s already looking at me.
A rainbow of emotions filters through her face. She lands on quiet fury.
Her father is oblivious to the tension between us. “This is Simon, your new bodyguard.”
“I already have bodyguards,” she says, blinking at me with utmost boredom.
I can’t read what’s on her mind.
“So did your sister,” the Pakhan hisses. “Apparently, they weren’t enough.”
“Did you find anything?” Vera asks, tearing her eyes away from me to look at her father.
“Nyet.” He grinds his teeth. “And stop asking me every three seconds.”
“Do we at least know if she left the country or not?” Her eyes are wild and restless.
My little tigress.
Maxim’s face turns a few shades darker. “Vera. You’re embarrassing me.”
Vera purses her lips.
She has a lot to say, but she’s holding back.
“Give Simon a tour of the estate. It’ll allow you two to get acquainted as well,” Maxim says, dismissing both of us with a wave of his hand.
“As you wish, father.” She uses her saccharine voice.
Shooting me a glare, she spins on her heel and storms out.
I shake Maxim Reznikov’s hand and follow his beautiful daughter.
She’s a few feet ahead.
“We meet again,” I call out.
That does it.
She spins around and prowls toward me. Her index finger stabs my chest, and her eyes devour mine.
“You,” she snarls. “You fucking lied to me.”
“I’ve lied to a lot of people, but never to you, Verochka.”
Her eyes liquefy before turning into jagged crystals. “Don’t call me that.”
At her fury, a large golden-gray animal comes bounding toward us. He stops next to Vera and bares his teeth at me.
She stands taller now that she has a wolf hybrid next to her.
“Lion has an attack command,” she informs me, petting the dog that nearly reaches her waist.
“Is that a threat?” I ask, raising an amused eyebrow.
“No, it’s part of the house tour.”
I hold my palm up in front of him.
“I wouldn’t do that—" she warns, but her wolf hybrid reaches his snout up, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs me.
And then he licks my outstretched hand.
Vera’s eyes dart up at me, confusion written all over her face.
“What did you do?” she hisses, looking back at her dog as if to confirm that it’s really hers.
“I did nothing. Your dog just happens to like me, Vera,” I say, stooping lower to scratch his chin.
“Lion doesn’t like anyone,” she states, still perplexed.
I lift my gaze to look at her. We’re eye to eye now, her face inches from mine.
Heat blooms under her skin. Her pupils dilate.
She remembers.
Her body remembers how good I made her feel.
“What are you thinking about, tigritsa moya?”
She balks at that. “Your tigress? I’m not your anything.”
“You will be, though,” I say, smiling as her dog licks my hand once more. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“What do you want from me?” she lashes out.
I take a step away from her, giving her the space she needs.
Vera has had men telling her what to do her whole life.
She doesn’t need me to barge into her life and shake everything up.
I need to give her room to run.
To be wild.
As she was born to be.
“I was promised a tour,” I say. “Can you show me around?”
Her face remains passive.
I notice the way her inhales and exhales don’t match. I’m making her nervous.
With a deep breath, she pulls herself together. “Sure, why not? We’ll start with the greenhouse.”