Page 21

“I wish we had time for more, baby, but I have things I need to see to. So I’m going to leave, and your men will find you and handle your date over there. You really should get rid of your security. A pretty face, and they just let anyone in. Why, I could have killed you.”

Unable to help myself, I put the knife to his throat over the mark I already left. I don’t press it in, but the warning is clear. I could kill him. I’m choosing not to. Ilya’s lashes flicker.

“Let me be clear with you, pet. You’re going to try and find me, we both know that, but you won’t. Just know that I’ll be thinking of you.” Then I withdraw the knife, tuck it away, and spin on my heel. I don’t try to right my clothes, needing the just-fucked look to make sure I get the hell out of here without any problems.

At the door, I turn, and he’s watching me, eyes narrowing. I give him a slow smug smile and blow him a kiss. “Thanks for the orgasms, pet. We’ll have to do it again sometime. Maybe next time, we’ll try some restraints, yes?”

I’m out the door, shutting it behind me. No guards line the halls. Idiots. They should have been waiting for me the moment I emerged. Well, it makes things easier for me.

I slip down the hall, past the curtain-covered door, and out of the club without a single shred of resistance. Not until I’m outside and in the car waiting for me do I turn the cameras back on.

I sink back into the seat and sigh. That was just what I needed. Now I need to get back to where I’m staying to clean up and get back out to find Noah. I have a job to complete before I head on to the next one.

The Chameleon never rests.

I’m feeling more energized than ever, and it’s also made something wholly clear in my mind.

Ilya Romanov is mine. This obsession I have with him isn’t going to ease, which means I need to figure out a way to keep him tied to me. So I need to start putting my plans into action.

If I want to have him for myself, then I have a ring to take down. Already working out how to get it done, I pull out my phone.

When I get back to the apartment, I bring up the feed of Ilya’s office I hacked into. The room is full of men, Ilya sans shirt but pants on and buttoned. His face is flushed a dark red, neck corded with rage. His brother stands off to the side, looking like he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or start shooting people.

When the bullets fly into the guards’ heads and Tiffany’s, I grin. Well, at least he listened, and maybe now he’ll start employing some competent people.

“I’ll see you soon, pet,” I murmur, clicking off the feed.

I have a job to do and a plot to plan. It’s time to get to work.

9

ILYA

I’m going to punch them both in the face if they don’t shut the hell up with their howling. Grinding my teeth, I clench my fist in my lap.

They’re fucking lucky I don’t reach for my gun and shoot them.

Or snap their necks. Less messy that way, and in such close quarters, I can do it quickly.

Zakhar wheezes out another laugh, looks over at me, and slumps against the door, shoulders shaking, while Oleg sits in the passenger seat, head back against the seat as he laughs.

Yeah, I’m going to kill them both. Maybe I’ll even let Freya have their bones as a treat. Fuckers.

“I knew I should have taken a picture,” Zakhar wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “I’m never letting you live this down, bro, I hope you know that.”

“You’re making it really hard not to kill you right now,” I seethe. I glare at him in a way that would make lesser men cower, but he laughs again, unbothered. He thinks he’s safe.

I’m going to make him pay for this. I might not kill him, but I will make him regret laughing at me.

From the knowing grin Oleg shoots over his shoulder, he knows I’m planning his death too, and he’s waiting and eager. The man loves this shit.

“Lucky for you, Pakhan, the men who might have heard about it fear you too much to dare say anything. And you killing the guards and that whore you hired will quell any rumors for a while. Well, until Zakhar gets drunk and lets it slip.”

Zakhar flips him off and tries to regain his control. “Fuck off. The only one I allow myself to get drunk with is you two.” He glances at the driver. “Well, and, I guess, Boris here, but he’s too loyal to say a word anyway, right?”

Boris has been our driver for years, and while he’s well past retirement age, he’s more loyal than some of my men. The man is a wall of silence, and even now, the only thing he does is glance back at Zakhar in the rearview mirror before turning his eyes back to the road.

I shoot a pointed look at Oleg, who gives a barely perceptible nod. Boris supports his ailing wife, and they have two disabled grandchildren they care for, and I reward loyalty. Oleg will see to it that they’ve got everything they need.