The future.
Mine.
I glance at Artem, who’s eyeing me warily.
“She’s a useful tool,” I say flatly. “If she gives me a child, I’ve already got one up on Nikoli.”
Artem scowls. “Now you want to impregnate her?”
“Think about it.”
Sienna won’t allow her father to die.
It’s mutually beneficial.
I get more out of this deal than she does, but I can make her stay comfortable. She doesn’t have to fall in love with me. She doesn’t even really need to like me.
This is a business deal.
And I will win.
I always do.
17
Sienna
I can’t stop staring at his text.
Benedikt:Meet me at my office.
Cold and flat. I shouldn’t have expected anything else.
I’m a wreck. My hair’s in a messy bun. I threw on sweats and a T-shirt because I couldn’t bring myself to pretend like this was a normal meeting.
I’m not here for business or closure. I’m here to strike a deal with the devil.
The elevator dings, and I step into the quiet hall. My palms are sweating. My legs feel like they're moving through cement. The lighting here is clinical as I meet his blonde receptionist again, and I don’t bother being cordial.
She doesn’t either, nor does she seem surprised to see me.
Rising from her chair, she leads me to the elevator that transports us to Benedikt’s office floor, then down the hall inheels that clack noisily against the tile. Then, she knocks on the door and waits for his permission to enter.
She immediately gets it and walks away.
With all the strength in me, I twist the knob and open the door to meet the bane of my existence.
He’s behind the desk. The first time I met him, I thought he looked like the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. But now, after everything I’ve seen him do and everything I know he’s capable of, I can barely stand to look at him.
And he’s still wearing the same fucking suit.
Maybe not the same one, but thattype. Midnight black, crisp lapels, fitted perfectly to his body.
He’s not wearing a tie today, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt are open, giving me a peek at a sliver of throat and ink.
He doesn't look up right away, but he knows I’m here. He makes me wait while he finishes typing because this is a game.
A dirty, deadly game.
