Scamming the Devil

CHAPTER TWELVE

IRINA VOLKOV

Escape. Escape. Escape.

Was all I could think of even when Nikolai’s steps became dangerously nearby. The hallway was empty. No guards in sight — the rotation gap I'd clocked on the tour, exactly where I'd calculated it would be. I moved fast, eyes forward, heart hammering against my ribs.

A door at the end of the corridor. I had desperately hoped it would lead me outside the house. I reached for the handle—

A hand closed around my arm and pulled me back in one smooth motion.

I didn't need to turn around.

"Where are you going, malyshka?"

Don't f*****g Malyshka me!

I turned anyway, because I wanted him to see my face when I answered.

"Away from you."

Nikolai looked down at me with those ice-blue eyes, one brow slightly raised, utterly unbothered. Like I was a minor inconvenience. Like I hadn't just mapped his entire compound and timed his enforcers' rotations and made it further than anyone apparently expected.

"That would be a mistake," he said.

His lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Let go of my arm, you devil. I hate you."

"No."

I hit his chest with my free hand. It was like hitting a wall — he absorbed it without moving, without changing expression. I did it again anyway because standing still wasn't an option.

"Let me go." My voice was low, furious. "I owe you money, fine. But you took my freedom, my phone, my laptop, my ability to know if my friend is safe. You keep me in a room like I'm something you own. I just watched you torture a man. I am not doing this anymore, Nikolai."

"You're not leaving."

"Watch me."

“I haven’t punished you yet. You mess with me and one of my people. Didn’t matter but I’m not letting you go.” He stated with complete, utter seriousness.

“You motherfucker! Go f**k yourself. I will leave. You just watch how. You son of a devil!” I grunted, taking his damn hard chest into my mouth and bit him hard.

He groaned, pulling me back away from him. Nikolai’s hand grabbed my neck—not to tight, but enough to hold me in place. He forced me to look into his eyes and moved back, my back hitting the wall, and he pressed against me.

“You’re a kinky fan?” He smiled—his eyes held that dangerous look.

“You wish. I’d rather jump down the twenty-three floors than have any thought of s*x with you.

“Should we see about that, Solnyshko?” Sunshine? He took my wrists and placed them above my head. I breathed heavily, staring at him with disgust and irritation.

Why?

Because for a moment, I thought of his disgustingly handsome face buried deep down my thighs.

“I’m going to kill you. I SWEAR, I will make sure I do, if that will result to my freedom.” I seethed.

He chuckled darkly. “I would love to see you try. If you don’t, I will in fact be disappointed because I know what you are. Smart, intelligent and cunning—someone who’d get to do whatever their mind is set on.” He replied.

“f**k off. I’m dead serious. I will kill you, Nikolai.” With utter seriousness.

I meant it completely. I don’t care if it will be the death of me but I don’t want to waste any second longer with him.

His hand tightened on my neck, but enough to make me breathe. No, I was already wheezing. He held that cold stupid smile and eyes narrowed to me.

“Irina, you’re mine. And like I said, I would love to see you try.”

I glared at him—twisted hard against his grip. He held on without effort, and something about that — the sheer effortlessness of it — made the fury in my chest go white-hot.

My eyes caught the vase on the narrow console table to my right.

I grabbed it and smashed it across the side of his head.

The c***k of it was loud in the empty hallway. He made a sharp sound — not quite a groan, more like someone who has just been genuinely surprised — and his grip on my arm tightened reflexively rather than releasing.

Blood began to run from his temple. Slow, dark, sliding down toward his jaw.

God, he’s so strong. I can’t even move an inch except my legs.

My legs. I moved to kick him but like he knew what I was going to do, he blocked them with his. Leaving me powerless again.

Three of his men appeared from around the corner at a near-run. Nikolai didn't look at them.

"Leave." A single word. They stopped, assessed the scene — their boss bleeding, a woman with pieces of broken vase at her feet — and retreated without a word.

The hallway went quiet again.

Nikolai looked at me. Really looked at me, in that way he had of making a person feel like they were being taken apart and catalogued. The blood reached his jaw and dripped onto the floor between us.

“I’m on the edge of unleashing my beast on you, Irina Volkov.” He said calmly enough to let the anger in his words barely noticeable.

“I'm going to keep hurting you until you let me go, Nikolai Dragunov.” I replied, returning the deadly look. "Every opportunity I get."

He smiled again and pressed me further into the wall. I could feel the bulge in his pants against my stomach and I gritted my teeth hard.

“You want to tempt me, isn’t it? But do you know I can have you replace that man in that cold dungeon, tied like that while I punish you until you can’t take it any longer?” He whispered, thick and cold.

“You have no reason to tie me up like that. And I’m not into that thing you’re already fantasizing about.”

He released my neck—a little, his thumb rubbed my jaw lightly as he c****d his head and looked deep straight into my eyes.

“And who said anything about 'that thing' —having to sleep with you?”

“You.”

“What are you thinking, baby girl. I never said that.” He smiled mischievously.

“I’m just letting you know. Nothing is going to happen between you and me.” I stated.

“Then, we shall see. For now, you’re going to pay for this.” He finally released me and pointed to his bloody head.

He reached out and I braced — but he only took hold of my wrists, brought them together, and in one fluid movement had me over his shoulder before I'd finished processing the motion.

I gasped. Kicked. Used every word I knew.

He walked back toward the elevator without breaking stride, one arm locked across the backs of my knees, completely unmoved by any of it.

"Put me down."

Nothing.

"Nikolai. Put me down."

I stopped fighting. Not because I'd given up — because I was conserving energy and he needed to believe I had. I hung over his shoulder and stared at the floor rising beneath us and thought about the guard rotation, the door handle, the three seconds I'd almost had.

Almost wasn't nothing. Almost meant the gap existed. Almost meant next time I'd be faster.

The elevator opened into the pent-f*****g-house. My prison.