Then he said something in Russian. A curse, probably, based on the venom in his tone.
And then he was gone.
No goodbye. No explanation. He just turned and walked out of my room, out of my house, leaving me standing there with my robe half off and my lips still tingling from his kiss.
The phone kept ringing.
I stared at it, watching Sebastian’s name flash over and over, and felt something break inside me. Some last piece of hope I’d been clutching that maybe—just maybe—Kirill could be different. That someone could finally see past the perfect facade to the mess underneath and not run.
But he’d run. Just like everyone else would have.
The phone went to voicemail. Then immediately started ringing again.
I let it ring this time around. I could deal with his bullshit another day.
Chapter 6 – Kirill
Andrew Davis’s handshake was firm, his green eyes calculating as they assessed me across his mahogany desk. The man was everything I expected—sharp suit, sharper mind. He reminded me of Vladimir in some ways, except colder. More distant. Like he’d traded his humanity for power and never looked back.
“My head of security speaks highly of your work,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed. “Says you found vulnerabilities in our system that we didn’t even know existed.”
“Your system’s compromised.” I kept my tone professional, detached. “Has been for months, maybe longer. You need a complete overhaul—hardware, software, protocols. Everything.”
His jaw tightened. “How much?”
I named a figure that would’ve made most people flinch. Andrew didn’t even blink.
“Done. I want it installed by the end of the week.” He stood, extending his hand again. “I trust you’ll be discreet. My daughter lives here. Her safety is paramount.”
His daughter. Barbara. The woman whose taste I could still feel on my lips, whose scent had invaded my penthouse and refused to leave. The woman who’d lied to my face and let some bastard named Bass control her life.
The woman I couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard I tried.
“Discretion’s part of the package,” I said, shaking his hand.
If only he knew how indiscreet I’d already been with his precious daughter.
***
Late afternoon sun slanted through the surveillance room’s windows, painting everything in shades of gold that felt too warm, too soft for what I was about to do. The room hummed with electronic life—six monitors flickering with live feeds, cables coiled like serpents beneath the console, red indicators blinking in a steady rhythm.
I sat at the main terminal, fingers poised over the keyboard with an anger that had become my constant companion since walking out of Barbara’s bedroom two days ago. Confusion churned beneath the anger, a toxic mix that made it hard to focus on the screen in front of me.
She was standing behind me. Close enough that I could feel her presence like static electricity raising the hairs on my arms. Close enough that her scent—jasmine and something sweeter, something uniquely her—wrapped around me like smoke.
I tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on the code scrolling across the screen, the patterns I was looking for, the evidence I knew was buried in these files. But my awareness of her was a physical thing, demanding attention I refused to give.
“You don’t have to watch,” I said without looking at her, my voice coming out harder than intended. “This is technical. Boring.”
“It’s my house.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “I want to know what you’re doing.”
What I’m doing is trying not to think about how you looked in my bed. How you sounded when you came. How you tasted.
I shoved the thoughts away, fingers flying over the keyboard with more force than necessary. The clicks were sharp in the quiet room, punctuated by the low hum of equipment and the distant sound of birdsong outside. Peaceful sounds at odds with the war raging inside me.
“Suit yourself.” I pulled up the security logs, eyes scanning lines of code that most people wouldn’t be able to read. “But if you’re going to stand there, at least stay quiet. I need to concentrate.”
She didn’t respond. Just shifted her weight, arms crossing over her chest. I could feel her gaze on me, burning into the back of my head, and it took every ounce of control not to turn around. Not to look at her.
