“And if I don’t sign?”
“Then you’re choosing the harder option. And I promise, princess, I don’t lose.”
5
Benedikt
This meeting has been dragging on for an hour too long, and I’m already thinking about the text I’mnotgoing to send to Sienna.
She’s got until tonight to sign the contract.
I’m not giving her reminders like some lovesick idiot who can’t wait to marry me. She knows the deadline. She knows what it means if she misses it.
But the longer I sit in this mahogany-paneled backroom of a Miami restaurant, listening to two associates argue over the shipping schedule for a container I already signed off on, the more I think about her.
Not in some poetic way. Not in amiss you, babyway.
More in theyou’re pissing me off, sign the damn contract.
“Benedikt,” Marco says, his deep voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “We’ll have final numbers by Friday.”
I nod once. “Good. If they’re wrong, you’ll be paying for it personally.”
It’s not a threat that needs emphasis. Marco knows I mean it. He gives a tight smile and steps back.
The table’s cleared in moments. My men are already on their feet, moving before I do on trained reflex.
Outside, the air’s hot for an afternoon. The sun hits hard, bouncing off the hood of my black SUV parked by the curb. Artem’s already there, scanning the street. He nods once when he sees me.
I’m halfway to the car when the mood suddenly shifts.
It’s subtle, the way my men move. Four of them step out, forming a half circle in front of me. Their attention’s fixed on a single figure leaning casually against a vintage Mustang across the street.
And then I see him.
Nikolai.
Leaning against the hood ofmycar like he owns it, cigarette in hand, and the faint curl of smoke blending with the damp air.
My men react before I do. Viktor and Ilya step forward, cutting in front of me. Their hands hover near their jackets, eyes narrowing on the suspect who dares to touch something that belongs to me.
Nikolai doesn’t flinch. The bastard looks amused by the way my men react like he’s about to pull an explosive out of his ass and toss it at me.
His eyes skim the line of them, like he’s counting how many would shoot before I gave the order to do the same to him, before his gaze lands on me.
“Well, well.” He flicks ash to the ground, his grin widening as we stare at each. other. “Little brother’s all grown up. You’ve got quite the entourage.”
“Get off my car.”
Instead of moving, he pushes off the hood slowly, letting his palm drag across the glossy paint. “Relax, Benedikt. I’m just admiring. Impressive… for someone who used to ride shotgun inmycar.”
Two of my men step closer, but I hold up a hand. If Nikolai wanted to be dead today, he wouldn’t be here.
“What do I owe this surprise visit? In aparking lot, Nikolai.”
“Straight to business? And here I thought we’d have a brotherly reunion. Hugs, maybe a drink?—”
“I don’t drink with people I don’t trust.”
