The Confession

by Marquita Valentine

  The Confession By Marquita Valentine

  Copyright © 2014 by Marquita Valentine

  www.marquitavalentine.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by Q&A Productions

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  More Books By Marquita Valentine

  About

  Author’s Note

  CHAPTER ONE | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER TWO | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER THREE | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER FOUR | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER FIVE | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER SIX | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER SEVEN | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER EIGHT | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER NINE | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER TEN | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER ELEVEN | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER TWELVE | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN | THE CONFESSION

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN | THE CONFESSION

  EPILOGUE | THE CONFESSION

  More Books By Marquita Valentine

  Acknowledgements

  More Books By Marquita Valentine

  Holland Springs Series

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  The Request Trilogy

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  The Deception – http://amzn.to/UVhizA

  The Confession – coming September 17th

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  About

  The Request Trilogy

  Roman Smith ~ Shopkeeper by day. Assassin by night.

  The undercover Russian contract killer has never turned down an assignment that rids the world of scum... until his latest job targets an innocent man.

  Refusing is not an option.

  Everly Andrews, the sexy southern belle who saved him from dying and is completely unaware of his double life, has been marked as next on the kill list should he fail. There’s nothing Roman won’t do to keep Everly safe, even if it means losing her in the process.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Readers, I’m super excited for you to read, THE CONFESSION, the final installment of The Request Trilogy. Roman, Everly and Company really took me on a ride while writing this book. The amount of shocking secrets that were revealed as well as the twists to their story kept me on my toes.

  While a romantic suspense-esq trilogy is not something I’m known for writing, I had a blast trying my hand at it. For my Holland Springs readers, there are numerous easter eggs in the story—just for you.

  And for you new readers, welcome to my world, where no matter the genre, there is always, always a happily ever after at the end.

  Hugs,

  Marquita

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE CONFESSION

  I wake up with a start, my body moving as if still in motion. My vision is blurry as my arms shoot out, searching... protecting.

  Everly. I have to protect her. I have to—

  A sharp pain comes crashing down on top of my head. It feels as though someone has taken as ax to it.

  “Motherfu—” I bite back the curse and wince, gripping my temples and hoping the pressure from my fingers will alleviate some of the pain.

  Strong hands grip my shoulders and force me back down. “Settle down. You’re no good to anyone right now, cuz.”

  With a harsh breath, I force my body to relax and focus on the man leaning over me.

  Black hair, pale blue eyes like mine, and a smirk I want to punch greet me. Benjamin Romanov, my cousin. His father, a man long dead, was the youngest of Dmitri Romanov’s sons. I remember when he first came to live at Grandfather’s. Ben had been only five and followed me around like a puppy. An annoying, nosy puppy who copied everything I did.

  “You look like shite,” he says, his smirk turning into a grin, complete with dimples. So innocent he looks. “Then again, an old man like you... your reflexes have to be slowing.”

  Brat.

  Although I’m still suspicious of him, it is a comfort to find his face above me.

  I hold out my hand. “Help up an old man,” I order.

  He takes it and pulls until I can sit up on my own. My stomach roils in the opposite direction of the spinning room. Darkness threatens to overtake me, but I refuse to go down again. Instead, I picture Everly. Her face, her sweet smile... the trust that had shone in her eyes.

  I have to find her before it’s too late.

  “Viktor won’t kill her,” Ben says pleasantly, sitting across from me. He pulls a knife and an apple out of his pocket, rubs the fruit on his trousers and then begins to carve. “He wants information from her. But,” he cocks his head to one side, “knowing you, you’ve revealed absolutely nothing about yourself.”

  My vision sharpens on his knife. Despite his playful cockiness, my cousin, the computer nerd, is just as much of a killer as I am. He was raised in a killer’s household as I was, and while Grandfather might be grooming him for other things, every Romanov, worth his salt, knows how to take a life.

  “Why am I,” I swallow, not in fear, but because my mouth is dry. How long have I been out? “alive?”

  My cousin gives me a look, popping a slice of apple into his mouth, taking his time as he chews and swallows. “Viktor assured me he warned you before he pulled the trigger, but you had failed to respond. He let me take the body to bury you properly.”

  “Viktor assured me that he planned to kill Everly should I not perform the task at hand,” I say through clenched teeth. “How did you get me out of there? I can’t imagine Viktor not confirming my death.”

  “Apple?” He holds out a slice to me, knife in his grip. I could take it from him in an instant and slice his throat. He knows this. He knows many things, some of which I do not, including the full story of how he was able to keep me alive right under Viktor’s nose.

  “No.” I look around the room. It’s old, but not in disrepair. There are dozens of computer screens displaying code or live camera shots hanging above a large table covered in keyboards and empty bottles of water. A large black chair is in the middle of it all. Command central, I suppose. “Well?”

  He cocks a brow. “Well, what?”

  Obviously, he doesn’t feel inclined to share, so I let it go. “Where are we?”

  “Berlin. One of my safe houses. It’s been forty-eight hours since you were shot.”

&nb
sp; Panic flows like ice through my veins. My hands turn to fists. “And Everly?”

  “Also in Berlin.”

  A rush of air leaves me.

  Ben’s eyes are knowing as they rake over me. “You really do care about her, don’t you?”

  “I care about her safety. I’m the reason she’s in the mess in the first place.” I swing my legs off the bed, smoothing down my shirt and frowning at the drops of blood. Tentatively, I touch my head as I stand. Dizziness has me swaying, and my hands grasping at thin air.

  “Head wounds are a son of a bitch, yeah?” Ben jumps to his feet, steadying me.

  “Explain,” I growl. “Now.”

  Ben blows out an impatient sigh. “Obviously, if Viktor wanted you dead, then you would be dead.”

  Perhaps. “He wants Everly dead.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  I grab Ben, twisting his shirt with my fist and putting my face millimeters from his. “Do. Not. Play. Games. With. Me.”

  My cousin’s eyes widen fractionally, but I know it’s not because he’s afraid of me. No, it’s because I’m not composed.

  But I’m past giving a damn.

  “You won’t get any information if you let your anger get the best of you.”

  “Blyad,” I mutter. Letting go of the material, I shove him away and stumble to the bed.

  “You have a head injury and need to rest,” he points out. “Everly will be fine.”

  I slice my gaze to him. “For now. When it’s convenient, or not at all, because Viktor can’t be trusted to keep his word.”

  “And you can’t be trusted to stay on your feet.” Ben crosses his arms, standing firm. “Either rest and allow me to help you. Or do it on your own and fail. It’s only Everly’s life your pride wants to gamble with.”

  Ben has a point. Too many for me to disagree with.

  “If you recall, I was the one who helped you recover the last time you were shot.”

  I sit down, exhaling against the sudden pounding in my head. “You were ordered.”

  “Was I?” He goes back to his apple, slicing and eating it as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Arguing with my cousin will do no good. He talks in riddles and specializes in half-truth. Just like me.

  “What do you propose?”

  “My sources say that Viktor is interrogating Everly for information.”

  Terror for her turns my veins to ice, nearly paralyzing in its intensity. I can only imagine the kind of interrogation he has performed.

  “She’s unharmed, Nikolai. The last time I checked on her, she was still under the assumption Viktor and his team are the good guys.”

  The last time he checked... Jesus. “He will get nothing from her. Nothing. She knows less than nothing—only what I’ve told her.” Only what Viktor supposedly revealed about me working with him—a CIA Agent.

  “She thinks you are—were a double agent gone bad. He also told her that she was to be your next victim, once you were done with her.”

  I blink. Is he serious? I could never be done with Everly, much less hurt her, but I do have a rather large problem—bad reputation notwithstanding—in changing her mind. “To her, I’m dead.”

  “Shall we leave her with Viktor, then?” Ben cocks his head to one side, studying my reaction like a good little assassin. “Perhaps he’ll let her go after all. You say she knows less than nothing.”

  Terror gives way to raw fury. “I won’t leave her with him. Would you leave the woman you,” I grind my teeth together at the unexpected rush of emotion that I feel at the thought of never seeing her again. Never touching her soft skin or see her smile, “are responsible for with that cold-blooded bastard?”

  Ben lets out a thick sigh, as if my response has disappointed him. “I would not. Yet, it is in your best interest to remain dead.”

  “How so?”

  Ben smiles slowly, and in that smile I see myself. Never again will I underestimate my cousin. “A dead man can’t be killed twice.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Kidnap her.”

  I grunt. “Do you really think that will work?”

  “It worked in Prague,” he reminds me. The little shit.

  “And how do you propose completing this mission?”

  “Leave that to me.”

  “I’d rather not,” I say softly. “You have two choices, Ben. Kill me before I kill you, or we work together.”

  Ben sets down his knife and pulls out his gun, checking the chamber. He points it in my direction, straight at my heart. Angling the gun a fraction of an inch higher, he cocks his head to one side and pulls the trigger. A bullet embeds itself into the headboard behind me.

  I don’t move, I don’t blink. I don’t fucking breathe. This isn’t the first time I’ve been tested like this.

  “Whoops,” he says. Lowering his arm, he puts the gun in his holster and lets his coat fall back into place. “You’re going to have to trust me, cuz. What I say goes. Can you do that?”

  I arch a brow. “Give me one good reason why I should.”

  “Other than letting you live?” One corner of his mouth kicks up.

  My jaw clenches. “Yes.”

  “You have no other choice.”

  I eye him for a moment. He’s right. I don’t have any other options. Viktor’s hideouts in Berlin are unknown to me. Slicing my gaze to the monitors, I consider Ben’s surveillance system... and his cockiness.

  “When do we leave?” I ask. My body is amped up, ready to do murder.

  “In twelve hours. You need a bit more rest—and most of the guards have plans to leave by then, since Viktor thinks he doesn’t need them anymore.” With a grin, he hands me a gun that I didn’t see him grab. “Don’t worry, Nikolai. We will get her back.”

  “I’m not worried.” Tucking the gun away, I look at him. “Viktor, however, should be very afraid.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE CONFESSION

  Ben parks the car along the street of an East Berlin district known for skinheads, and waves away the prostitutes that wander over to us.

  “One block up is our target,” he says, cutting the engine. “Do you remember the plan?”

  “Are you serious?” I pull on a pair of black, leather gloves.

  “You did get shot in the head two days ago.”

  “Shut up.” I open the door and get out of the car. “It was just a flesh wound.”

  Unlike the rest of Berlin, very few people are walking about or shopping. Only a handful of shops are open as it is. Most are empty. Deserted.

  Ben joins me on the sidewalk and we start walking quickly to the nearest alleyway. The tall buildings block out the afternoon sun, and the air is musty smelling. Trash litters the ground—broken bottles, hypodermic needles, and the occasional condom.

  A dog barks in the distance. A woman screams, and a baby cries.

  “Almost there,” Ben says. “I took out their security system earlier this morning and replaced it with looped footage of what it’s supposed to be seeing.”

  “I thought that only worked in movies.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Ben admonishes. “Try saying good job, Ben.”

  He has a point. I wouldn’t have done that; I would have gone in guns blazing and taken out every man in my way, possibly forcing Viktor’s hand. “Good job, Ben.”

  Stopping in the middle of the alley, he gives me a hug. “I’m so proud of you for using your words, instead of resorting to grunts.”

  I shove him away. “Be proud another time. Everly needs me.”

  Rolling his eyes, he punches in a code into a formerly hidden keypad. The door swings open slightly. “Let’s go.”

  We jog down the hallway, encountering no one. It is strangely silent in the warehouse. Just as I begin to think that Viktor has left, I hear a woman scream. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I break out into a dead run, uncaring of who hears me.

  “Damn it, Nikolai. Fucking wait.” Benjamin
shouts, his footsteps echoing with mine.

  Two men appear out of nowhere, guns aimed. Two bullets whiz past my head and the men slump to the ground.

  “Bal’shoye spaseeba,” I say to Ben, who is now running along side me. Thank you very much.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  I flip him off, and he laughs at me.

  As we pass the bodies, I tap them each in the head with one more bullet to help speed things along.

  I come skidding to a halt when a door bursts open and four more men come out. They are unknown to me. Viktor has gone beyond our circle and has employed his own, just as my cousin had warned me on the car ride over.

  “Go get Everly. I’ll take care of them,” he shouts, throwing a canister at them. Smoke pours out, making my eyes water and nearly rendering me sightless. I run in the opposite direction.

  A man shouts—Viktor.

  A woman screams back at him—Everly. She sounds enraged. This is good. A pissed off Everly is an alive Everly.

  Slowing down, I force myself to take my time in getting to her. The room where she is being held is only steps away.

  The floor creaks. I bite back a curse.

  “Nikolai, why don’t you join us?” Viktor says.

  “Stop it,” Everly chokes out. “Stop messing with my mind like that.”

  Gun raised, I enter the room. Everly is facing the other way, but Viktor— that bastard— is staring right at me. His eyes widen in surprise. He was messing with her mind.

  I take in the room. It’s dark, but for a single light shining on Everly. Her hands are bound at the wrist, arms pulled tight behind the chair. There are bruises on her arms.

  “Down to seven lives now?” he asks.

  “Please stop.” She begins to weep. The sound rips at my heart, but I can’t react. Not yet. “I told you I don’t know anything,” she sobs.

  “She’s right,” I say, and her head jerks up. “And as I informed you many times, Viktor, I told her nothing.”

  “Roman,” she breathes, trying to get a good look at me.

  “I am here. No games, love.”