We return to the hotel room, and my back is to him as I open my luggage.


    My fingers hover at the zipper like they’re trying to remember how to work, like I’m just another woman shaken by what happened. Nervous. Fidgety. Quiet.


    That’s how someone who saw what I did would behave. Someone normal. Someone who isn’t used to watching a man get shot in the middle of a business meeting like it’s just another line item on the agenda.


    Okay, fine, so maybe that’s the first time I’ve witnessed a death during a meeting, but I’ve seen quite a few murders in my line of work. Evenmitted one.


    His footsteps are slow behind me, his palmnding on my forearm, heavy and warm. “Do you want to talk about it?”


    I almostugh. Is this a joke? Does the murderous Bratva boss want to unpack my feelings now? Maybe offer a shoulder to cry on? It’s absurd.


    But maybe this could be my way of getting to know him better, and anything I learn is a potential weapon that I intend to use.


    I slowly drop my hands away from the suitcase and turn. He’s standing just inches away, his eyes heavy with something that feels too close to softness, which is quite the opposite of what he is.


    This man is cruelty in its finest form. He’s never been soft with anything in his life.


    My gaze wanders down hisrge form. His suit jacket is gone, hung neatly in the walk-in closet, and the top buttons of his crisp white shirt are undone, revealing a sliver of the chest that made me lose my mind just hours ago.


    My attention drags lower. His belt. That expensive diamond-encrusted gold watch. The strength in his arms. It all gleams in the dim light. He exudes power and he knows it, so why is he looking at me like he’d protect me from the world if I asked?


    When I nce up and meet his stare, the shift is instant. The room seems smaller, the tension louder, the draw between us impossible to ignore.


    No matter how much I tell myself to fight these feelings, he’s still the man who pulled a trigger without blinking.


    And I’m still the woman who liked it.


    “Was that…uh…normal for you? To do that?” My voicees out shaky, difort woven through each word, making a show of unease.


    His lips press into a thin line. “You mean do I normally kill people in front of my assistants?”


    I nod once, keeping my gaze guarded, trying to look like I’m in over my head.


    “Surprisingly, that was my first time.” A half-grin spreads across his face while his fingers rise to graze my jaw. “But I’d happily do it again for you.”


    “I don’t want you to.”


    His expression doesn’t change. “That really isn’t up to you.”


    The words strike me like a p, yet when his touch falls away, I sense the absence like a cold draft, part of me irrationally wanting it back.


    He takes a step closer, his presence eclipsing everything. “I know you’re not a stupid woman. You know who I really am. What I really do behind the pretty fa?ade of this empire I’ve built. Don’t you?”


    My throat tightens. I nod again, slower this time.


    “Then say it.” His tone dips lower. “Tell me what I am.”


    Shit.


    Panic flutters in my chest. Is this a trap? Some twisted loyalty test I’m destined to fail? A tremor races through my limbs, and of course, he notices.


    “This isn’t a test.” His fingertips glide up and down my hand. “I promise you. I just want us to be honest with each other.”


    I hesitate for only a second before whispering, “You’re…you’re Russian Mafia.”


    His grin spreads—slow, seductive, and treacherous, the glint in his eyes saying he enjoys hearing me admit it.


    “Mdetz.” He leans in, the heat of his body stirring the air between us. “And how does that make you feel, working for someone like me?”


    “Not great?” I cringe a little. “Terrified?”


    His chuckle bursts out. “There are no wrong answers here.”


    “May I ask a follow-up?”


    “Of course. You can ask anything you want, dorogaya.” With a twist of his hand, he gestures for me to continue, the gentleman in the devil’s skin.


    “Do you…kill a lot of people?”


    His eyes sh with humor. “Maybe more than others in my position. I haven’t really crunched the numbers. I could if you’d like.”


    “No, that won’t be necessary.” I nce down for effect just as he chuckles again, like it’s all so casual.


    But nothing about this is funny. Not to the girl who once feared for her life every night in a roach-infested home, and definitely not to the woman who puts men like him behind bars.


    “Don’t you worry sometimes?” I go on, watching him closely, wanting to know the man inside, wanting every bit of him.


    “About?” His thick brows furrow.


    “That you’re next in line…to die?”


    That makes him pause. “All the time.”


    The honesty in his answer knocks me off-bnce. I expected arrogance. Invincibility. Not this brutal, quiet truth. And it shakes me more than I want to admit.


    Because maybe he’s not just a monster wrapped in expensive suits and bloodstained power. Maybe he’s just a man, one who walks with death at his back just like I do. And somehow, that makes him even more dangerous.


    Not because he kills without thought. But because, if I’m not careful, I might start seeing the man beneath it all.


    And that…would be the most dangerous thing of all.<hr>


    KONSTANTIN


    I didn’t intend for her to see that side of me this quickly, but it was bound toe out sooner thanter. Better for her to get used to it now. I am who I am, and there’s nothing she can do to change that.


    The lights are low, the hum of the city barely reaching the penthouse as I step out of the bathroom in nothing but boxers and a white T-shirt.


    She’s already in bed, back propped against the pillows, legs curled under the sheets. But her gaze lifts when she sees me. It flickers over my chest, my arms, then down. Subtle, but not subtle enough.


    Her mouth parts. “You’re not going to put on pants?”


    I shrug. “This is what I normally wear to bed. You’ll have to get used to it.”


    She mutters something, turning away with a roll of her eyes, but the flush on her cheeks betrays her. Irritating this woman and turning her on are my current favorite pastimes.


    I cross to my side of the bed, making sure my gun is right on the nightstand before flicking the bedsidemp off and settling beside her.


    The silence lingers, both of us on opposite sides of the bed. But all I can think about is holding her close, chasing the rhythm my heart only finds when she’s beside me.


    I lean in, mouth brushing her bare shoulder, unable to stand another second without touching her.


    “Goodnight, katyonak.” My lips stay pressed a second too long, desperate to hold on to something I shouldn’t want.


    She inhales sharply, almost imperceptibly, but I hear it. Feel it in my bones. She’s trying not to react, but her body always gives her away.


    I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. But sleep doesn’te. Every hour that ticks by is torture. All I can think about is her. How she tastes. How she sounds when shees. What it would be like to have a woman in my life.


    Then a soft rustle of fabric catches my attention, followed by a sharp hitch in her breath.


    I turn toward her silhouette in the dark. She’s on her side, but her legs shift, the softest whimper escaping.


    Blyat.


    She freezes when I slide closer as though I didn’t just catch her. My arm wraps around her waist, hand gliding down until I grip her wrist inside her shorts.


    My mouth finds her ear. “You need help?”


    “I—”


    “You should’ve told me you were aching for it.”


    “I-I’m not…” Every syble is a tant lie.


    “Shh.” I press a kiss to the pulse beating in her throat. “Let me help you.”


    She hesitates for a moment, but doesn’t stop me.


    I guide her fingers first, make her move them the way I want. Slow. Deep. Controlled. Her breath turns ragged, body trembling.


    “Were you thinking about me while you were fucking this sweet cunt, or do I need to murder someone else tonight?” Pushing her hand away, I take over, fingers recing hers.


    She’s soaked. Needy. Desperate.


    “You’re dripping wet. This better all be for me.”


    When she doesn’t answer, I force three of my fingers inside, and she cries out, nails digging into my forearm.


    “Answer me before I lose my goddamn mind and go on a killing spree, Tessa.”


    “You…I was thinking about you.”


    Sweet relief. It’s what I thought, but hearing her admit it is something else entirely.


    I work her gently, my thumb stroking her clit, before I go harder. Her hips arch into my hand as she tries to stay quiet, but fails miserably.


    She’s out of her element, losing control like this. But she’ll soon learn how much better things can be when she relinquishes her control to me.


    “That’s it,” I groan, my fingers sinking in and out of her tightness. “Come for me.”


    When she moans, I thrust deeper. “Yes, just like that. That’s my good girl. Let me hear how much you like it.”


    There are so many things I want to do to her—at my club, in my home—but this… This is enough right now. She’s like a baby bird who needs tending to before I let her fly.


    With another flick of my touch, she shatters around me, breathless and shaking, her walls quivering.


    “Fuck!” She grips my arm tighter, nails wing until it almost hurts.


    But I wee the pain, refusing to stop until she’s climbing for the second time.


    “Please, oh God, I can’t do that again.”


    “You will give me another.” I pin her arm with my free hand and take her harder, mming into her with brutal force until she’s twitching, screaming my name.


    “Konstantin!”


    I let go of her wrist and grab her throat, grinding my cock into her ass before her second orgasm ms through her, soaking the sheets beneath us.


    “I promise the next time you scream my name like that will be with me inside you.”


    Her breathing turnsbored, her body growing limp against me.


    My cock is a painful weight against her, but I grit my teeth, knowing nothing else will happen tonight.


    Wordlessly, I gather her in my arms and carry her out of the dark room and into the other bedroom.


    I catch the weighted look in her eyes before she sags against me, her cheek to my chest, and I swear my heart twitches.


    “Go to sleep, katyonak.” Iy her down on the mattress, even while my body aches to take what it wants.


    “Why?” she breathes.


    “Because if I don’t stop now…” I growl. “I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget why you ever wanted to resist me. And we both know you’re not ready for that.”


    Even in the darkness, I feel her eyes on me—trapping me, saving me, doing things to me no woman has ever done before.


    I should make some attempt to fight it. But I don’t. Because there’s nothing I want more than her.