I pick up the remote and turn off the television.
The silence that follows is heavy. I take a sip of coffee and finally look at Kazimir. He's watching me with that expression I've seen before—the one that says he’s going to—or in this case wants to—tell me something I don't want to hear.
"Say it," I tell him finally.
He blows out a sharp breath, watching me warily. "Was that wise?"
I shrug. "Probably not."
"Ilya—"
"He touched her." My voice is flat, a hint of anger edging it. "He put his hands on her. He grabbed her and propositioned her like she was something he could buy."
Kazimir shifts on his feet. "I understand that, but?—"
"Do you?" I set my cup down sharply. "Do you understand what it took not to cut off his head? Not to gut him in his own apartment and leave him to bleed out on his expensive Persian rug?"
Kazimir is quiet for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is careful. "The initials on the card. I.S. If she gives it to the police, they’ll find your identity.”’
“So? I can pay off the police.”
“They might reveal your identity to her.”
I frown. That wouldn’t be ideal. I want to control when and how she finds out my real name and any correlating details about me. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”
“Sergei is going to find out you killed someone in his territory.”
“Richard Maxwell has no connection to him.”
“Are you sure of that?” Kazimir blows out a sharp breath. “We didn’t investigate him. We didn’t make sure we weren’t stepping on any toes.” He leans forward. "Ilya, beyond that, the police will investigate. They'll look at everyone connected to Maxwell. They'll interview people from the auction. They'll question Mara. They'll want to know if she has any connection to someone with those initials."
"She doesn't. Not officially."
"Not yet," Kazimir says. "But you're making it obvious. You're leaving a trail that leads directly to her, and from her to you. And with relations with O’Malley unstable, and your marriage arrangement, and now interfering in Sergei’s territory?—”
“I don’t care.”
"You should.” He’s gaining steam now. “I’ve been loyal to you all your life, Ilya. But if Ronan thinks you're making moves that could expose our operations—" He shakes his head. “He’s not going to risk heat from Sergei Kima. Your allies will also pay if you make mistakes. You will lose those alliances.”
"Let him think whatever he wants." I stand and walk to the window, looking out over the city. "I showed restraint, Kazimir. I could have done so much worse."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?" I look back and see that his jaw has tightened, his eyes cold. He’s upset… truly upset. Somewhere in the rational part of my mind that’s left, I know I’m pushing thistoo far, making mistakes that could cause a mutiny. That could get me killed.
"The point is that you're being reckless. You're exposing yourself, exposing us, for a woman who doesn't even know you exist beyond a chance meeting in Boston."
I turn to face him. "She knows I exist. She's known since the moment I left that first gift. She's been trying to figure out who I am, trying to solve the mystery. And now she knows what I'm capable of. What I'm willing to do for her."
"That's what concerns me." Kazimir stands as well, his expression serious. "You're escalating too fast. This was supposed to be subtle, gradual. You were going to seduce her slowly, build trust, reveal yourself when the time was right. Instead, you've sent her a severed hand with your initials on it. How is that subtle?"
"I couldn't stop myself." My teeth grind together. “He touched what’s mine.”
The admission hangs in the air between us. I've always been in control—of my emotions, my actions, my empire. Control is what's kept me alive, what's made me powerful. But with Mara, control is impossible.
And I can see the unspoken words in Kazimir’s eyes, the ones he doesn’t dare say out loud. That she’s not truly mine yet.
My jaw works and I cross over to my laptop, opening it. “Look,” I demand, pulling up the surveillance footage from the cameras Kazimir hacked into at the auction house. “Look what he fucking did.”
