Roman.
The mission is complete. I obtained the diamonds.
When I glance at Chloe, I can’t quite read her expression. Twenty million reasons exist to walk away, to return to my life, and forget all about the kindergarten teacher with the unexpected steel spine.
My heart rejects that idea with a painful clench.
I don’t want to revert to the cold, efficient killer who only knows targets and obstacles. No people. No Chloe.
What I want stands right in front of me with cuts on her palm and defiance in her eyes.
“I need to change.” She gestures at the bloodstains on her borrowed clothes. “One minute, gents.”
Before anyone can object, she disappears down the hall toward her bedroom. Kirill emits a frustrated grumble.
I silence him with a single glare.
The weight of the diamonds in the tote bag tugs at my arm like an anchor. I’ve got what Roman sent me for.
My mission’s complete, but the true treasure is Chloe.
She reappears in less than two minutes, dressed in her own clothes. Jeans, a soft gray sweater, and practical boots. With her hair pulled back and her face scrubbed clean, she looks like herself again, only sharper around the edges.
Real.
Our eyes meet from across the wrecked living room. The question hangs between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore.
What now?
The others have already started heading toward the kitchen. Vanya takes point, and Max brings up the rear while Kirill scans the street through the window.
Professional. Efficient. Ready to complete the extraction.
But I don’t move. Can’t. Not until I know.
I hold out my hand. Not for the diamonds.
For her.
“Chloe, I don’tneedyouanymore.” The words scrape my throat. “Not for the diamonds. But I do…need you. For me.”
The guys hurry out of the house and out of earshot. Kirill nearly trips over Max in the rush, stumbling to escape.
If I weren’t so stressed about Chloe’s reaction, I might laugh. These men face down death without a single blip in their pulse, but feelings? Those they flee from, as if the hounds of hell snap at their heels.
Not that I blame them. A week ago, I would’ve reacted the same way.
Chloe regards my outstretched hand first, then the tote bag full of diamonds hanging from my other arm. Her gaze travels around the room, absorbing all the destruction, not just from Gio’s men, but from her own actions.
The home she built, the safe space she created, destroyed beyond repair.
She could run and start over somewhere new. Or she could accompany me into a world of violence and danger.
My lungs flatten as I wait for her decision.
She steps forward, takes the heavy tote bag, and pushes it firmly into my chest, forcing me to use both hands to hold the weight.
“And I need you. But I don’t need these. They’re Roman’s.” Her eyes never leave mine. “Let’s go.”
