But when his gaze lifts from his wrist and sees me, I know he did. He saunters over to my side of the bed, where he strokes my face with his knuckles. I shiver at the effect he has on me with just a simple touch.
“Go back to sleep, Victoria. It’s late.”
I look up at him, confused. Disappointed. “Why are you leaving?”
“Every respectable villain goes to work at this time of night.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Oh, yeah? And what’s on the agenda?” I yawn, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. “World domination? Robbing Santa?”
“Worse. But you don’t need me to tell you that.”
No, I don’t. I’m already picturing the bloody corpse of the man he killed on our wedding day, and that’s about all I need to know. Still, there’s one question my mind keeps conjuring. And for whatever reason, I need him to answer it.
“Will you…”Be safe?I want to ask, but the words refuse to roll off my tongue. “Is it dangerous?”
His thumb slides over my lower lip, pulling it down, swaying it with a deliberate, circular motion. For a few seconds, he stays silent, just watching me. Stretching out the time. Making my breath hitch.
Then he leans down, pressing his mouth to mine, and my back arches, as if it’s been expecting him. Always expecting him. My eyes flutter, closing as I moan, a silent plea begging him to stay.
His tongue strokes mine, and I’m drowning in his essence, in the taste of him. But it’s short-lived. And before I get to tell him I don’t need a life vest this time, he murmurs—
“Mne stalo trudno pomnit', zachem ya vse eto nachal… Chto mne s toboy delat', lyubov'?”
My eyes widen at the sound of his voice in Russian.
More importantly, they widen at recognizing every single word he just uttered. I may not speak much in my grandparents’ language, but I understand it well enough.
With that, Wolf straightens up and saunters to the door, leaving the bedroom, and closing the door behind him. Meanwhile, I’m still here, alone and unmoving, trying to process it all.
It's getting hard to remember why I started all of this… What am I to do with you, love?
WOLFGANG
Tendrils of guilt weave their way into my mind as I exit the house. Darkness welcomes me, and I breathe it in, letting it seep into my pores. I do this shit every day. There’s no reason to feel differently about it now.
My shoes crunch through the gravel. A lonely owl surveys the forest surrounding the estate, flying above the three cars parked out front.
Ivan and a small group of our men see me as I approach, and he uncrosses his arms. “We’re still waiting on Kiril. He thought he saw something near the edge of the forest. Went there to have a look.”
I raise my brows at that, because no one ever sees anyone lurking around the estate.
“Then he can have a look,” I say, “But we’re leaving now. I want to get this shit over with by sunrise.”
Ivan nods and reaches Kiril through his station. I advance through the group of armed men, rounding my car and opening the door to the backseat. Before I get in, I lift my gaze to the second floor. To where Victoria sleeps peacefully in my bed, completely unaware of what I’m about to do.
And there it is. The tightness in my chest, telling me I’m wrong.
I clench my jaw until my gums hurt and get in the car.
Half an hour later, I step into the shadow of a relic—the Romanovs’ estate. All the lights are off, except one, showing me just how desperate Victoria’s father has become. Staying up all night, trying to fix the irremediable. It almost makes me laugh.
Shutting the car door, I head to the entrance with Ivan and the others on my trail. The guards see me and move aside, because they, too, are mine now. And when I barge into Nikolai’s office a few moments later, he is reminded of that fact as well.
“Funny how you keep on working when you’re out of your job.”
He springs from his desk, taking in the manpower I brought with me.
“What is this? What do you want? It’s fucking late.”
