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“After years of hounding him for a name, Dmitri gave up his cousin for me. Fenn killed Raven in Russia, and I made him pay for it. But since I’d killed one of their heirs tonight, he’s determined to have you.” His thumb swiped over my cheek. “You’ll go back to your parents after this, so don’t worry about Dmitri.”

“Were you punished for killing his cousin?”

His lips thinned before he said, “I was just ordered to give them more of our crates.”

An exhale tumbled out of me. “He provoked you tonight.”

He hummed in agreement, and yet I fully trusted Manic not to let Dmitri have me—however that looked. Maybe he did care. For some reason, his declaration eased the wild storm of panic building inside me.

I took a slow, calming breath and listened to the world around us as he gripped my chin. He stood so close that the smell of him seared my lungs. His cologne. Warm spices and aged whiskey. Even the muted scent of tobacco was enough to realign my reality.

Faint traffic beyond the windows whispered between us, melding with the light breeze against the glass. It was slow and gentle, now that the stars were fully out for the night. Completely opposite of the chaos that had ensued earlier. Manic lowered his brows as if realizing just how close we were, and the rustle of our clothes, the beat of our breaths, filled the silence.

I wanted to put distance between us, but couldn’t bring myself to move. But my thoughts, to my dismay, drifted back to my phone, that chess piece, and what I knew.

I blinked up at him and whispered, “Will you give me my phone back when I leave?”

Really, Sutton? Of all the things you could have asked, and it was that?

He tilted his head, eyes dancing. “Yes. But I’m shocked you didn't just take it when you searched through your phone earlier. Should I add that to your punishment?”

“Punishment?” I questioned. “You can’t be serious.”

Despite the nervous tremble of him knowing I went through my phone, I let out a very uncomfortable laugh. Of course he knew.

Or maybe he didn’t and I just gave myself away.

With a single step, he crowded me until my neck ached from the strain of looking up. His hand slid down my jaw before he forcefully pushed his thumb into my mouth, and warmth spread throughout my body, reigniting the memory of us tangled together. My lips instinctively closed around his thumb, and my pulse whooshed between my ears.

“You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” he asked with a heated lilt.

His question had a tingling inferno coiling down the center of me. Why did the thought of pleasing him set me on fire? Then he slowly dragged his thumb out and ran it over my lower lip.

Ask him, Sutton. Just fucking ask.

Yet my mouth dried, words dying in my throat as his touch lingered.

“Good girls do what they’re told,” he mused, “and you, little Hale, went behind my back and found your phone. Then you disobeyed me after you told me you'd stay out of the way. And disobedience gets punished.”

“A rain check,” I blurted.

“A rain check,” he echoed, drawing out the words.

“It’s three in the morning,” I breathed, and then rubbed my bruised thighs together. “And I’m not sure I’ve recovered from earlier. Tomorrow, maybe.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue as every inch of me ached, but the thought of a punishment now didn’t seem so enticing. I was tired and, after what happened at the ports, completely disheveled. Especially now that I knew he was my stalker. I hadn’t been thinking clearly earlier, but between then and now, I’d had time to sit with it. To process.

Silence stretched between us, but I knew my request was turning over in his mind as his eyes grew distant. They settled on me again, accompanied by a rueful twist to his mouth.

Oh, I hated that look.

I knew what it meant, and I wasn’t sure I had the capacity to deal with whatever had just surfaced in that unhinged brain of his. My eyes narrowed, and I stepped back, his warmth fading from my face.

“Fine… a rain check,” he agreed with a smile. “But I won't give you the satisfaction of knowing when your punishment will be or what it is. Could be tomorrow.” A small lift of his shoulder. “Could be in a few days.”

“You’re insufferable,” I hissed.

He chuckled, and I felt the color drain from my face, pure dread encompassing me. My stomach knotted.