Page 109

Good.

I kissed him properly, a private promise wrapped in performance for his man’s benefit. When I pulled back, I smiled like the confidence of a sinner who knew heaven and hell both wanted me.

Behind us, the room had gone painfully quiet.

I turned on my heel and crossed the suite with a sway in my step that was absolutely intentional. The carpet brushed my bare feet, and the silk of my robe whispered against my thighs. Halfway to the bathroom, I threw the knife onto the bed, slipped the robe from my shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. It slid down my body like an invitation. An invitation to Stas. I didn’t look back as I entered the bathroom and closed the door behind me with a quiet click.

I waited three seconds.

Then I pressed my ear to the door. If Stas didn’t think I would eavesdrop, he didn’t know me at all.

“Sir.” Nico’s voice came out strained, shaken in a way that made my mouth twitch. “Forgive me, but… this isn’t you. Please tell me this is a plan. Tell me you’re just getting close to him to kill him when he least expects it.”

The pause that followed was sharp enough to cut.

“No one is allowed to touch him.”

My breath hitched at the possessiveness in Stas’s tone.

“And especially not you. That’s a direct order. The bounty I had on Yuriy Orlov’s head has expired.”

Oh, the fucker had a bounty on my head all this time I was balls deep inside him?

I leaned closer to the door, heart banging against my ribs so hard I was afraid it might give me away. Words drifted through the wood, thick and broken.

“…Mancini in prison⁠—”

“…doesn’t matter anymore⁠—”

“…if Malik thinks⁠—”

“…cleaner this way⁠—”

None of it made sense. Names without context meant nothing to me. I pressed harder, cheek to the door, breath shallow.

“…should’ve been dead already⁠—”

That I heard, and everything in me stilled. The silence that followed was far from encouraging. My pulse roared in my ears. Were they talking about me? The voices had dropped, but the tones were angry, taut, strained. My stomach curled tight and hot, and not in the fun way.

There was movement beyond the door. A scrape of boots. Fabric whispering.

The front door.

Oh shit.

I bolted, crossed the bathroom in three strides, and twisted the faucet on full blast. A cold stream of water bit at my skin as the water screamed to life, loud and sudden. I fumbled the glass door open and stepped under the spray as the bathroom door opened behind me.

“Don’t bother.”

I froze under the stream.

Stanislav stood in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up like he’d just finished a war instead of a conversation.

“I know you were listening.”

I turned slowly, water running over my shoulders, sliding down my spine. “I was not.”

He lifted one eyebrow as he stripped off his shirt.