She was beautiful, yes—any man with working retinas could see that—but there was more to it. I didn’t want to possess her, but there was a part of me that responded to people who still had softness left. It had been a long time since I’d taken care of anyone. Longer since I’d wanted to. She awoke that instinct like it had been lying dormant under layers of discipline and frost, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
And Viktor had gotten to her first.
Of course he had. Reckless, charming idiot that he was. He gravitated toward heat like a moth, and she burned bright enough to draw anything with a pulse. She probably fell into his bed without understanding the consequences; he probably fell into hers without thinking about them. Now here I was, sitting in a chair growing angrier by the second because the girl I should have approached with caution, with intention, with respect… had Viktor’s fingerprints on her skin instead of mine.
I rubbed my temples, trying to shove that thought aside long enough to focus on what I needed to do today. It didn’t help. Because the next thought that slid into place was even more irritating.
Katya was clever. Too clever. And she’d been close to Viktor in very… compromising circumstances. If she’d wanted to tag him, she had the perfect opportunity. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d slipped a tracker under his skin while he was too occupied wetting his dick to notice.
The image made me groan under my breath.
Should I do something about it?
Check him?
Warn him?
No. That was ridiculous.
The idea of pinning Viktor down and hunting for tracking hardware was not appealing. He’d whine. He’d be overly dramatic. He’d probably accuse me of jealousy again, and I didn’t have the patience for his bullshit.
I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling for a long moment, letting the frustration coil tighter in my chest. This wassupposed to be simple. A briefing. A mission. A liaison assigned to us. Clean lines. Clear roles. That’s how it was supposed to be.
Instead, my mind circled back to my brother, how Viktor had gone and complicated it. I hated how much it bothered me that he’d tasted something I hadn’t even allowed myself to reach for yet.
I exhaled through my teeth, the sound harsh in the empty room.
“I’m going to kill him,” I said softly.
Not literally.
Probably.
Eventually.
Somewhere across the hall, I could practically feel Viktor smirking, and it only made the fire inside me burn hotter.
I was still sitting there in that chair, rubbing a hand over my face and trying to pretend Viktor hadn’t just kicked a hole straight through my professional detachment, when the suite door opened again, this time without a knock first.
Only one person in our family walked into rooms like they owned them without even checking if someone was reloading a gun first.
“Andrei,” I said flatly.
My youngest brother stepped in. His dark blond hair was windswept, cheeks flushed from the winter air. His coat wasn’t fully buttoned, and he carried a paper cup of coffee like it was the most important thing he owned.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, though he didn’t sound remotely sorry. “Airport security in this city is a nightmare. And then some fool crashed a taxi in front of the bridge. You’d think St. Petersburg never learned how to handle weather.”
“Most cities don’t expect ice in September,” I said.
He shrugged. “Only the stupid ones.”
His gaze drifted over me as he withdrew a second cup from his coat pocket and offered it. “Coffee? You look like you could use it.”
I stared at him. “How did you manage not to spill that?”
He smirked. “Talent. And a refusal to obey the laws of physics.”
I took the cup because refusing would only make him ask questions. Andrei never missed anything. Not tension, not shifts in tone, not the way I was sitting like a man trying very hard not to break a chair in half.
