A fleeting pause in his eyes vanished with something volatile. “Take the fucking pill, Mila.” He drugged me once before, and I should have learned my lesson. Although, with my puke on his shirt, my name on his lips still lingering in the air, and the closeness of his gaze, I let him put the pill in my mouth before I forced it down my sore throat with a drink of water. His phone rang, and he stood to answer it. I took the opportunity to lean my head against the armrest and close my eyes to alleviate the ache behind them. A pat to my face made me groan and open them again. “Ne zasypay,” he told me. “English,” I reminded him. After a second of awareness that told me he didn’t realize he’d spoken Russian, he clenched his teeth and walked away to continue terrorizing whoever was on the phone. My eyelids were so heavy I allowed them to close again, but the peace was interrupted by another pat to my cheek. I glared at Ronan as best as I could manage. “Stop it.” Phone to his ear, his gaze bore into mine. “If you fall asleep, I will spank your ass.” We stared at each other for a long second. If he hadn’t done so for throwing tea in his face, he wouldn’t punish me for falling asleep after I was poisoned. Although, for some reason, I let him have the threat and forced my eyes to stay open. A moment passed, and he released me from his gaze and walked to the front door. He returned with a familiar face: the doctor I met my first night in Moscow. The one who tried to warn me. This home seemed so remote, I had no idea how he managed to get here so fast. My imagination played a scene of the doctor in the underworld boarding a train called Satan’s Express. Nothing would surprise me anymore. While the two men shared Russian words, Kirill kneeled in front of me, shined a light in my eyes, and checked my pulse. It seemed I’d come full circle, but this time, I knew the devil was in the room. When Kirill pulled an IV bag and a needle from his briefcase, anxiety pulsed through me in waves. Tired muscles shook as I forced myself to my feet, and, swaying slightly, I nonchalantly announced, “I’m going to my room.” Kirill frowned and said something to Ronan, who, with an ounce of dry amusement, caught me by the waist and pulled me back.