The Black Wolf

“Me?”


“Yeah—you. He didn’t kill me before because you stopped him. And he won’t kill me now, because he knows you won’t forgive him for it.”

“That’s bullshit—he’s your brother, Niklas, that’s why he won’t kill you. I have nothing to do with it.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Izabel shoots into a stand, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Is that why you came on this mission? That’s it, isn’t it?” She steps up into my face. “Your plan all along was to go so you could screw everything up to get back at Victor—for something he shouldn’t be blamed for!”

Trying not to let her screaming get too me, I shake my head and look away; take a deep breath. “Believe what you want, Iz; you’re going to no matter what I say.”

“Oh, it’s pretty damn obvious to me, Niklas”—she points her finger in my face—“everything you’ve done was for yourself—selfish, childish fucking asshole! You made Nora play the slave role so you could beat her”—she jabs the tip of her index finger into my chest angrily; her eyes swirling—“and then you fucked her to shame her—”

“Hey, nobody shames me,” Nora cuts in. “It’s all either of us wanted, Izabel.”

We ignore her; Izabel glares at me, I glare back. I want to grab that finger of hers poking me in the chest and shove her into the seat behind her, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“And the only reason you made me play your girlfriend was so you could use me to get back at Victor”—her palm lays across the side of my face hard and a slap rings out; stunned by the hit, I just stand here, looking back at her, wide-eyed—“that kiss…” She can’t go on.

Instead of retaliation for hitting me, I want to know what she was going to say, even more.

“What about the kiss?” I ask; my cheek is stinging.

Izabel’s hand drops to her side. She looks wounded…wounded.

She shakes her head and readjusts her rage-filled expression, quickly covering up the one that made her vulnerable, the one that hurt me inside.

“Then the money,” she goes on, looking away, disappointment twisting her features. “I thought you helped Sian because…” Her eyes lock on mine again, and in them is the same disgust and hatred for me that I always saw when I looked at her after we first started working together. And that shit hurts more than anything—I know now I’m the one of us who must look wounded. “The only reason you saved her life was to—you’re just an opportunist; you spent every bit of that money because you knew it would piss Victor off. And you had no intention of ever looking for Olivia Bram!”

“That’s enough, Izzy.” A long deep breath rattles in my chest; my hands collapse into fists; I grit my teeth.

She steps into my face again, puts her finger in my face again, boldly, accusingly, unforgivingly. “You’re the person I knew you always were, Niklas—a lowlife piece of shit who thinks of nobody but himself—”

“I said that’s enough…” Breathe, Niklas, just fucking breathe.

“You’re nothing; you’re just a—”

My hands shoot up of their own accord and fall heavily on Izabel’s shoulders and I shove her into the chair; the adjustable back bouncing against the weight and coming to an abrupt stop. Izabel’s eyes are round; her hands grip the plastic arms of the seat; her head is pressed into the back as if she can’t push herself far enough away from me. With my hands still on her shoulders I lean in closer, inches from her stunned face. “You’re wrong!” I bark, putting pressure on her shoulders, shaking her. “I came on this mission because you wanted me here—I came here for you! Not for Victor; not even to take revenge on him! I came to protect you!” I point in her face, right between her eyes. “Everything that happened, with the exception of killing Francesca—.” I can’t even say it; I can’t because…I don’t know. Why do I care to defend myself to her? Fuck her! She doesn’t know me!

Releasing her shoulder harshly, I step back and away from her. I can’t look at her.

Fuck her…





Izabel





What have I done? Why do I feel so…like the worst person in the world?

Niklas turns his back to me and grabs his briefcase from the seat across the aisle; he takes it three seats up and sits down so I can see nothing of him but the back of his head.

I feel a guilty tear burning my eye, tracking down my cheek; I wipe it away quickly with the edge of my thumb.

“Niklas…” I try to say, but I realize the sound of my voice dies before I can get his name out.

“Emilio!”

All three of our heads shoot up, turning in Sian’s direction just as she’s practically flying out of the seat by the window. Niklas jumps up, grabbing her around the waist before she can get past him and out of the plane. He grabs his gun from his pants. Nora grabs her gun from the empty seat next to her and rushes past me toward the door of the plane with Niklas.

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