I can protect Mara. I can eliminate this problem. Meet Sergei face to face and put an end to this ridiculous notion that I’m here for anything except the woman I…
I freeze at the thought, shaking my head. “Alright. We’ll show up, demand a meeting. We’ll call his bluff. He’s smart enough not to take me out without hearing what’s going on first. With enough backup, he’ll be forced to sit down for a discussion and put an end to this.”
I want Sergei dead for putting a hit out on Mara, but if this can be negotiated, I know that’s the better way. The man he sent is dead, and I won’t accept any deal that requires one of mine for one of his, which I suspect he’ll ask for. His man was dead the moment he sent him after her.
“I’ll head your way,” Kazimir says. “We can plan.”
“Be here as soon as you can.”
An hour later, Kazimir and I have gone over every detail—maps, surveillance photos, schematics of the warehouse. "The meeting is set for eleven PM," Kazimir says, pointing to the warehouse on the map. "Sergei's bringing four men. The suppliers are coming from overseas, a Chinese syndicate. They're bringing product—weapons, mostly. Some pharmaceuticals."
I study the layout, thinking of potential complications. "Security?"
"Two men at the main entrance, probably two more on the perimeter. The warehouse has three exits—main entrance here, loading dock on the south side, emergency exit on the west. If we position men at each exit and come in from multiple angles, we can box them in."
“And no one else should be there that time of night?”
Kazimir shakes his head.
I pause, looking at the map. “We go in when the meeting is done and the other syndicate has left. We get Sergei when he’s off his guard, let him feel what it’s like to be on the back foot. Make him think it’s a threat before we let him know we just want to talk. I need him to understand what happens when someone threatens what's mine.”
Kazimir nods. We go over who to take, what the best plan of action is, again and again until we feel sure that there will be no mishaps.
“Who stays here with Mara?” Kazimir asks, and I frown.
“We need good men with us, but I want the best here watching her, as well. I’ll pick six men and leave them here. Bring in some more men from Boston. I want the penthouse covered as well as plenty at our back.”
Kazimir nods tightly. “I’ll handle it.”
Later, after he’s left, I go out to the kitchen to get a cup of black coffee. Mara is standing there, on her tiptoes as she gets something out of the cupboard, wearing leggings and a loose t-shirt with her hair up, and the scene is so startlingly domestic that it takes my breath away.
I can’t live without this.
It’s the first thought that goes through my head. Not arousal, though she certainly looks gorgeous, or even that burning sense of possessiveness, but the feeling that if I were to know for certain that I would go the rest of my life without coming out ofmy office and seeing Mara searching for a mug in my kitchen, I would simply rather not go on living.
It feels like a punch to the gut.
She hears me approaching and drops down onto her heels, turning to look at me. “I saw Kazimir leaving,” she says without preamble. “What’s going on?”
I could tell her. I could explain about Sergei, about the plan. About the thoughts tangled up in my head, how badly I want to give her what she needs, how once upon a time I would have promised her anything she wants just to keep her and then broken those promises, but that I don’t want to be that kind of man when it comes to her.
But the words won’t come out of my mouth. Telling her means admitting how terrified I am. How the thought of her in danger makes me want to burn the entire city down. How I'm not sure I'm capable of being the man she needs me to be.
And so I fall back into old habits even as I fight against them.
"Business," I say shortly. "Nothing you need to worry about."
Hurt flashes in her eyes, followed by a dark, angry look that pinches her mouth. "Right. Because I'm just the pretty thing you keep locked up here. Why would you tell me anything real?"
"Mara—"
"Forget it." She pushes away from the counter, heading for the bedroom. "I'm tired of trying to reach you when you've clearly decided I'm not worth the effort."
She's gone before I can respond, and I stand there staring after her, feeling like I've just lost something important.
—
Thursday evening,I find Mara in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book. She doesn't look up when I enter, but Ican tell she knows I'm there from the way her shoulders tense. I watch her for just a moment, thinking of how she’s stopped hiding in her room since that night when I ceded control to her, that morning when she gave me her ultimatum. It feels as if she’s showing me what I could have if I gave in, if I compromised, if I learned totrust.
