Yara |18+|

41

YARA

earlier

I stood up quickly and hurriedly, the chair creaking against the concrete when I realised that Amir was never handcuffed.

When the shock wore off, I released the breath I had been unknowingly holding. Amir cocked his head at me, a similar manner to the way Vico did but I found nothing cute about it.

My hands fell to my sides and I watched Amir, annoyed by the indifference on his face but the question didn't leave me; how the hell did he get loose?

"How did you get untied?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at Amir who gestured that I sit back down.

How was it possible that he escaped from handcuffs that were suddenly nowhere my eyes could see?

I knew Vico didn't know. He wouldn't have let me be in the same room as him otherwise. I glanced over Amir's face, searching for any malicious intent on an expression that was as stoic as a wall.

Despite the lack of emotion, his eyes were soft and his body was relaxed. But that didn't mean I let my guard down when I returned to my seat opposite him.

From what I could tell, Amir had no weapons on him.

From what I could tell.

"Just scream." Vico's words echoed off in my head but oddly enough, I was entertained.

"I don't need anybody to loosen me, sweetheart," he murmured, raising his head to stare at me as his lips stretched into a cunning smile.

His previously Slavic accent was gone—only to be replaced by a posh British accent that sounded natural and unforced. I pursed my lips, coming to terms with the fact that I might have been wrong about reading Amir the entire time.

He's british. And a damn good actor.

"Who are you?" I asked the cliché question one asks when you've been deceived. In a way, I was impressed. Not that he almost killed us—but by his temperament.

"Like I said," he murmured, his bruised eye barely peeking at me. "I'm Amir."

"I promise," he added, his hands raised in surrender with a cheeky grin on his face.

He still looked fucked up, but he was a little bit scarier knowing that he was free throughout the duration of our conversation and I didn't know.

I need to wake the fuck up.

"Look," he breathed, his eyes lazily blinking. "I know your people are going to kill me the second I give you what I want. I know that."

All I did was shrug. He wasn't wrong.

"I don't want to die," Amir murmured, letting his tongue run across his lower lip. "But after all, how dare I try to hurt the beloved Yara?"

I let him finish.

"The one who had her own mission fall in love with her," he said, casually leaning back in his seat. "I mean damn—I'm falling in love just looking at you."

He chuckled, his eyes squinting as he stared at me with nothing but a nonchalant charm that I wasn't humouring. I looked at him, not saying anything but feeling as if he were up to something.

"The truth is," Amir's voice softened and he dropped his head, breathing in deeply and hoarsely. When he looked back up at me, his smile was gone. "We didn't know who were targeting. We didn't know who Vico was. We were misinformed."