I tell myself that as I slip under the covers. Definitely nothing to do with the memory of the heat in his eyes when he last saw me in something of his, or with the satisfaction of knowing he’s going to look at me the same way tomorrow morning.
Or with the way his scent hugs me, lulling me to sleep.
24
PETYR
The warehouse smells like oil and rust. It’s a familiar scent, one I’ve grown up with for as long as I can remember. Tangy, metallic, a bite with every breath.
The place is dim except for a few overhead lights casting long shadows across stacked crates. Mikhael is pacing near the center, boots echoing off the concrete, jaw tight enough to crack. Ivan leans against a crate with his arms folded. His gaze is fixed on me like I’m the one with answers to give.
Lev comes up as I arrive. “Thank fuck you’re here.”
That does little to improve my mood. “Give me the status update.”
That’s when Mikhael stops pacing. He stomps near, eyes dark as he spits, “The shipment’s gone. How’sthatfor a fucking update?”
I wait for him to smirk, to say he’s kidding. Mikhael is famously terrible at reading the room.
But tonight, his face remains serious. “Gone,” I echo.
“That’s what I said.”
“Vanished, to be more accurate.” Ivan stands, his tone flat. “Truck, driver—nothing. It’s like they disappeared into thin air.”
Heat builds in my chest, slow and dangerous. “To be clear, we’re talking about the weapons for the Italians.”
“Why? Are there any other vital shipments leaving tonight that you didn’t tell us about?” Mikhael snarks.
I take a deliberate step towards him. “Since you’re feeling so fucking funny, explain to me how this happened.”
“Excuse me?”
“A truckload of weapons is missing. Last I checked, things don’t vanish on their own.” I stare him down hard. “So explain to me how the fuck that happened.”
His eyes widen. “You’re putting this onme?”
“I’m putting this on anyone who thinks it’s acceptable to crack smartass jokes in my face about it.” My gaze turns icy. “Because clearly, they didn’t take their job seriously.”
Mikhail grinds his jaw. I can tell he wants to lash back. Hell, I’m waiting for it. I could use a punching bag right now, and meat and bones always make way more satisfying sounds than lifeless leather.
“We don’t know yet.”
We both turn to Ivan. “You don’t know?” I ask, a dangerous edge to my tone.
“There was no word from the driver,” Ivan says. “No chatter on any of the usual channels. It just went dark on us.”
I ball up my fists. “And the decoy?”
“Untouched.”
Blyat’.The most important shipment of my reign, gone. Dropped off the face of the fucking Earth, just like that.
It’s exactly the kind of problem we can’t afford right now.
“Find it,” I snarl. “I don’t care what you have to do or how many fingers you have to break. You bring that shipment to its destination.” I pop my knuckles. The sound echoes off the bare walls. “And you bring the driver back to me.”
“Petyr,” Ivan cuts in, “maybe we should?—”
