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Of course he knows about Debajo. It was all over social media, and though there are no new photos of us, there are conversations online speculating about Harrison and me getting back together.
If Mischa brought me here to hurt me, or to use me against Harrison, I wish he’d get the hell on with it.
“He made me an offer. Besides, my contract isn’t exclusive. I play where I want. If that means you’re not interested anymore—“
“On the contrary. You were glowing. I can’t imagine a single woman in that filthy basement didn’t want to be you or that a single man didn’t want to own you,” the Russian says smoothly.
He stops inches away. Close enough I smell his cologne.
“Meaning what?” I force the words through my tight throat.
The first time I met him, he hit me. I have no doubt he’ll do that again, or worse, if it suits him.
We’re not in Harrison’s club anymore. This isn’t even neutral ground—security is his, and the man by the door won’t stop Mischa from doing anything he wants.
He brushes my hair behind my shoulder. Every inch of me tenses when he leans in, but I refuse to tremble.
“You, my Little Queen, will play for me. La Mer,” he whispers, and my head snaps up in shock. “One month from tonight.”
* * *
HARRISON
There’s a chance. Not a good one, but a sliver.
I’ve been reviewing documents for Kings—the ones I shelved months ago—to see if there’s a hope of reviving it.
Because the fire marshal won’t say for certain that I didn’t set fire to the club myself, the latest reports suggest insurance will cover only a small portion of the damages. But I could leverage capital from other projects and put it back together.
It feels worth hoping for.
My date with Raegan only solidified my convictions.
Once, I wanted revenge. Now, I want it done with so I can have a future with her.
Which is why I’ve compiled all the intel I’ve gathered on Ivanov and sent it to the authorities, including the inside information I didn’t trust them to use effectively.
I have enough resources to protect everyone I care about from Mischa until they figure out how to bring him down.
It’s the early hours of the morning, and I’m finishing a drink when I hear the car I sent for Raegan pull up the driveway.
Barney lifts his head from where he’s lying on the floor of my office. I rise from my chair and start for the door. When Raegan is around, I’m more eager than the damn dog.
She refused to have my security in her venue, so they waited outside, a call away.
I’m halfway down the hall when the villa door opens and she steps inside. My footsteps on the stairs have her looking up.
Her costume is intact, black leather shorts with a bodysuit beneath, showing off her long, curvy legs. The blond hair spills in waves over her shoulder, contrasting with her dark, lined eyes.
“You waited up,” she murmurs, stepping out of her heeled sandals.
I cross the floor to her, and the knot in my chest eases with each step. “Barney wouldn’t sleep until you returned,” I say.
Her eyes search mine, relief filling them. “You raid Sebastian’s closet?” she murmurs, taking in my appearance.
I’m barefoot in shorts and a polo, and I chuckle.
“Dry cleaning day,” I contend, unable to resist reaching for her. My hands thread into her hair as I claim her full mouth.
