Page 27 of Maksim

“My owner helped me find you.” My accent is as thick as the pain in my voice, so I take a breath and try to speak clearly. “He thought it was funny that I believed you were my fiancé. He laughed at me for not realizing what you’d done.”

“And is he,” Daniel points to the knife, “dead?”

“Yes,” I lie. I want him to be afraid of me. I want him to think it’s a possibility that this knife will wind up in his neck.

Daniel nods. “Good for you, kid.” He backs into his desk then quickly turns to exit out of the chat that’s pinging with messages. “I knew you were different, honey, I really did. I don’t want you to think you aren’t special to me. You didn’t deserve any of this. My…” He blows out a breath like this is hard for him, but it’s all an act. He fooled me once, but I can see through the lies with ease now. “My boss made me go through with this. I…” He shakes his head. “I am so sorry.”

Bullshit.

I hate you.

I hate you.

“I’m so glad you made it here.” He sighs and cautiously steps toward me. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. I have a drawer full of fake passports you can use to get back home. We’ll call your mom too if you haven’t already. She must be worried.”

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” I stab the knife through the air at him, causing him to raise his hands and jump back.

“Daniel?”

I spin toward the feminine voice at my back and lock eyes with a woman who startles when she sees me. She doesn’t quite look like the woman in the photo, but my eyes lock onto the ring on her left hand in an instant.

This must be his wife.

She gasps as she backs away.

“It’s all right,” he quickly says to her. “Darling, it’s fine, we’re only talking.”

“I’m calling the police.” She turns to bolt but stops when he screams at her.

“No! No. Do not fucking call the police. Just…” Gritting his teeth, he takes a breath. “Just give me ten minutes, babe, all right? Just wait for me in the sitting room. Elira is just about to go.”

The woman looks hesitant, but she nods, seemingly obeying the command when she slinks away. I wonder if she has any idea who he is, what he does.

I don’t know. Regardless, she feels far from innocent to me. I can feel my hatred follow her, follow that ring I never got to wear, that I was never going to wear.

When I turn to him, I straighten my neck and clear away the gunk clogging my throat. “I’ve heard enough of your lies, Daniel. I want the truth. I’ve earned the truth.”

His face sobers as he distances himself from me. Cracking his neck, he seems to be considering it. With a sigh, he meets my eyes. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

I lower the knife and try to keep my face neutral, try not to show the undeserving, out of place gratitude I feel. I need this. I need this so much more than he knows.

“Why me?” I ask, my heart breaking even as my voice steadies.

“Why you?” He looks annoyed, like at any moment his eyes will roll. “You were available. There is an endless supply of girls just like you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You came to my village. You?—”

“Okay, let me stop you there. You want honesty, right? You want the truth,” he mocks, mimicking my accent.

I nod without hesitation.

“I picked a random village on a map, went there, and found the dumbest, most naïve, reasonably attractive girl I could find within the four days I was budgeted to be there. In an hour you were eyeing me up outside that cute little restaurant with the qofte like I was a walking visa.”

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not true.”

His eyebrows raise as he smiles. “Now who’s lying?”

My grip on the knife tightens while my throat closes. I’m blinded by so much rage that when I lift the knife and barrel toward him, I can barely aim.