You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 90

Color drained from my face.

My heart didn't just drop; it packed its bags, jumped out the window, and hitched a ride to another country.

The Russian lady dropped a smile too wicked to be that stunning.

"Has it been working? Who's the lucky stand-in? Some fantasy boy you drooled over in high school?"

"Stop it," I gritted in a whisper, my eyes darting to the door of Void's office.

Oh, God.

"H—How do you know?" I blinked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please," she tossed her head back in a laugh, then looked at me like I was adorable for even trying. "I listened to the recording myself. In fact." Her hand dipped into her pocket and returned with a tiny black recorder. "I have it right here."

I stared at the recorder in disbelief. She wasn't bluffing. She must've gotten it from the therapist.

"Void's very interested in this little nugget," she twirled the device in her hand. "I was just following orders. But I've been dying to see how he reacts."

"Please." The word was out before I could catch it.

Scratch that. I had no intention of catching it. If Void gets a hold of that recording, I'll be as good as dead.

The door of his office opened and Eric's head poked out. "Ladies! Can we pause the gossip hour? Boss needs your evil self inside, Katya."

The door closed and opened right away again. "You actually don't have anything good to gossip about, Katya. You're probably lecturing that poor lady on knives and guns. Get in here."

The door slammed shut again.

Katya gave a small smile as she slipped the recorder back in her pocket. When she turned away, I found my hand gripping hers.

"You can't let him have it. Please."

Her eyes flicked from my grip to my face. I half-expected her to snap my wrist. Instead, she gently pulled away and shrugged.

"I have a meeting to attend."

****†****†

VOID

He reached out.

The slimy asshole that's been avoiding my tracks. The very one that's made me imagine tearing a man apart in exactly one hundred and thirty-seven different ways on purpose.

Blade. Like he called himself.

The Jett plan worked like a charm. I knew losing one of their men would rattle the hive. And I knew Blade would crawl out from whatever piss-stained hole he'd been hiding in when he realized I'd started plucking his partners off the board.

I imagined him feeling anonymous and all. Quite funny.

"I don't mean any harm, Torturer. I've been doing business on my own."

"Business that involves you playing God in my city? Leaving corpses I didn't order? You know the Torturer hates that, especially when it looks like Underworld shit to him."

"No. Believe me, it's personal. I have no business with the Underworld. Frankly speaking, I don't think there are any members left in Stonebridge."

"I don't care if it's personal, professional, or an emotional breakdown. Blood in my city without my hands on it is a problem."

I heard him exhale. "Can we have a meeting? Tomorrow, if that'll be possible. I'll meet you anywhere you want."

So, he was ready to reveal his face to me.

"And why would I care to look at you in person?"

"Because you'll understand my reason once we speak. I just don't want any more blood rolling from my end."

I gave a soft tsk. "You sound like the other businessmen are really pissed at you."

I knew I hit a raw nerve when he kept mute.

"You'll receive the details for the meeting, Mr. Blade. And just a little tip," I smiled. "don't be late. You always are."