“True.” I took another step closer. “Roman thinks he can charm his way through the world. Lev thinks he can beat it into submission. I prefer efficiency.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I don’t have to raise my voice to get what I want.”
She stood then, the towel slipping to the deck. The sun caught the edge of her shoulder and hip, gilding her skin in light. “What do you want, Dmitri?”
“To understand the kind of woman who manages to bring down two Markovs and still thinks she’s going to walk away without suffering the consequences.”
She blinked slowly. “Then you really don’t know me at all.”
“I think you’ve underestimated how far my family will go to correct a mistake.”
Her laugh was quiet and a little unsteady. “You mean how faryou’llgo.”
“Iammy family,” I stated succinctly.
That shut her up.
The sea lapped against the hull, the only sound between us. She took a step back without meaning to, and I followed, closing the distance until the sunlight drew a thin white line between us.
“You’re afraid of me,” I murmured.
Her chin lifted. “I don’t fear men who hide behind suits and bodyguards.”
“There are no bodyguards here,” I said. “Just me.”
With Roman, she could parry, flirt, draw him in. With Lev, she could fight, push back, make him bleed for control. But with me, there was no leverage, no angle, no game to play. She could see it in the way I didn’t move, in the way my voice never rose.
I didn’t need to try to dominate her.
I already had.
Her breath came shallow, quick. “If you came here to scare me, congratulations. You’ve succeeded.”
I studied her for a moment, the tremor she was trying to hide, the way the sun painted her in gold and defiance. “I didn’t come to scare you, Kara,” I clarified, my voice almost gentle. “I came to decide what to do with you.”
She swallowed hard. “And what are the options?”
I stepped close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. “That depends. Are you going to be part of the problem or the solution?”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
For a heartbeat, the entire world went still.
I smiled faintly, leaning close enough that my breath brushed the shell of her ear. “Don’t mistake mercy for weakness,” I whispered. “I don’t lose control. Not ever.”
When I pulled back, her eyes were wide, her pulse hammering beneath the delicate skin of her throat.
“Let’s talk about ARCHEON,” I said, my tone conversational, as if we were discussing the weather.
Her chin lifted, but she didn’t speak. The silence stretched, taut and electric. I could see her chest rise and fall faster, could almost hear the effort it took her not to move away from me.
“Who do you report to?” I asked.
“No one.”
I tilted my head. “Well now, that’s a lie.”
