“No, you won’t,” I warned. “I’m going to be handling itmyway.”
He gave me that grin again—the one that always came right before trouble. “We’ll see, brother.”
Lev’s voice was quiet as he followed Roman toward the door. “Try to keep your pants on this time.”
Roman didn’t even turn around. “No promises.”
Lev stopped right before exiting and turned his head back to me. “So, what happens when we find her, brother? Do we send her flowers, or set her on fire?”
“Neither,” I said. “We make an example of her.”
Roman folded his arms, his expression unreadable. “You mean punish her.”
I met his gaze. “I mean remind her what it means to play games with our family.”
Roman smirked. “And what, exactly, does that mean? We’ve been known to enjoy games before, especially with a woman shared between our three cocks.”
Lev shot him a look. “If you’re referring to games, you just enjoy losing them.”
“Only when the company is good.” Roman’s smile turned sly. “Maybe we’ll decide what kind of punishment she deserves after we meet her again. Together.”
Lev’s jaw tightened. “You think she’d survive all three of us?”
“If she took something from me, I think she’d try to,” Roman said, his tone rich with that lazy amusement that made men want to hit him and women want to follow him. “And I think that would be half the fun.”
The room fell quiet for a moment, the air charged with tension. We’d never agreed on much, but on this, I could feel the unspoken accord humming beneath the surface: whoever she was, she’d touched something in all three of us—ego, pride, intrigue, and our reputations.
Lev finally said, “When we find her, we’ll handle it together, then.”
Roman’s smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat. “You really think you can work with me without strangling me halfway through?”
“Hmph. Depends on what we find,” Lev said.
I stood, cutting through their barbed humor. “Enough. If you two want to tear each other apart, do it after we’ve dealt with her. Until then, we move as one.”
Roman’s smile returned, cool and predatory. “For once, big brother, I think we’re all on the same page.”
CHAPTER 5
Lev Markov
I’d been in Roman’s penthouse before. It was always immaculate: curated, perfumed, and designed to look lived-in without anyone actually living here. The kind of space that existed for seduction, not comfort.
Tonight, though, the air was different.
We stepped off the elevator and silence greeted us, that sterile, insulated, over-filtered quiet that only money can buy. The place was untouched, cleaned and sterilized by staff who knew better than to ask questions. Still, something lingered beneath the polish.
Roman wandered ahead, running his hand along the piano like he was expecting a round of applause. “Well,” he said lightly, “here we are. Home sweet scandal.”
Dmitri ignored him, already scanning the space with that calculating gaze of his. “No one comes in or out withoutclearance from now on,” he said. “Anton’s team will sweep for electronic tampering.”
Roman poured himself a drink instead. “I’ll toast to that. To beautiful women with questionable morals—the only ones who ever seem to touch me these days.”
“I’ll make sure the next one that touches you kills you,” I muttered.
He laughed, but the sound was hollow.
I turned away from both of them. I didn’t need to see Roman’s wounded pride or Dmitri’s condescending disapproval.
