My fingers claw at the sheets, at nothing, desperate for something to hold on to. Each thrust drives me further into the mattress, his weight and strength making me feel small, helpless, utterly possessed.
He grabs my hair, yanking my head back, forcing my spine to arch. His mouth crashes against my ear, his breath ragged. “Mine,” he snarls, every thrust punctuating the word. “You hear me? Mine.”
The pain melts into a savage kind of pleasure, overwhelming, addictive. My cries turn into broken and shameless moans. Another orgasm slams into me without warning, ripping through me so hard I nearly collapse, but he doesn’t slow down. He fucks me through it, chasing his own release, owning every inch of me.
When he finally groans my name and spills inside me, it feels like he’s branded me, marked me from the inside out.
I collapse against the sheets, shaking, spent, completely undone.
And still, he doesn’t let me go. His arm wraps around my waist, keeping me pinned to him, his breath hot on my neck. Like he’s not finished. Like this is only the beginning.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. It feels dangerous to break the quiet. But the question gnaws at me, tearing holes inside my ribs.
“What does Anton really want?” I whisper.
Niko stiffens, his arm tightening around me. For the first time since I’ve known him, I feel hesitation in his silence, like he’s debating whether to let me in or keep me in the dark.
Finally, his voice rumbles against my temple. Low and controlled..
“He’s not after me.”
I freeze. My fingers curl into his chest. “Then…who?”
Niko’s hand slides up to cradle the back of my head, almost gentle. But his words slice the air clean in two.
“He’s after you, Noelle.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised, because I knew he’d come. I’ve always known. But still, the words settle like ice in my veins, making it harder to breathe.
Before I can reply, there’s a knock on the door. Niko moves instantly, wrapping his body around mine, his warmth caging me in. His voice is sharp when he calls, “Come in.”
My cheeks burn, and before I can stop myself, I press my face into his chest to hide the flush. It’s ridiculous, after everything, but I feel…safe. Safer than I should.
The door opens. Demyan steps inside, his expression grim.
“We found the man,” he says, his voice flat. “But before we could get anything out of him, he swiped a knife from one of my men and slit his own throat. Died instantly.”
The room goes still. My stomach lurches.
Dead. Just like that.
No name. No answers. Only more shadows closing in.
Chapter 12 – Niko
It’s been a week. A week of dead ends, conflicting reports, and headaches that feel like knives driven into the back of my skull.
I’ve been in my study since morning, hunched over Anton’s file, staring at reports that make less sense the longer I read them. Every line is a ghost trail—rumors of bribes, whispers of shipments, false names that lead nowhere. My temples throb, and I press my thumb and forefinger against my eyes, trying to will the fog away.
The door swings open without a knock. Demyan strides in, his face pale under the harsh light.
“We just got word,” he says, voice tight. “Anton’s planning to hit one of the Rusnak safe houses today.”
I lift my head slowly. “Which one?”
“The underground clinic in the west.”
“That’s where Noelle used to work.” The words are gasoline on fire. My body reacts before my mind catches up—my chair scrapes back violently, my pulse slamming in my ears. “Where is she right now?”
