“Because she can. Because she saw you were important to me, and it made her want to throw you off balance.” I trace a lazy circle on her upper arm, smiling as the hairs rise on tippy-toes at the touch. “Alice has always been good at reading people. When she wants to be, she can use those skills to be effortlessly charming. She can lead a sales team to victory without breaking a sweat.”
“Pity she only wants to use her powers for evil.”
“It is. Back when we were first together, that’s how she helped me grow the business.”
Isabelle snorts and I nudge her in the ribs. “What’s that for?”
“I never thought of crime as a business you had to grow. Do you have quarterly targets and SMART goals for every member of staff, too?”
“Pretty much,” I say then have to wait for her fresh bout of laughter to come to a stop.
“I don’t think I’m going to be much use to you with that.”
“You don’t have to be. Expansion isn’t something that interests me any longer. Not since Sophia came along and I realised there was a lot more to life than money.”
Alice never made that leap. No wonder we’d fallen out of step. I changed to become a family man, and she stayed right where she always had been, craving money and power.
Meri’s very similar to her in that regard. Somehow, I surrounded myself with ambitious women then changed course.
Isabelle mutters, “Luckily, my idea of wealth is not having to add groceries in my head while I’m doing the shopping. Or being able to fill the car without keeping my eyes glued to the display.”
“Wow. Those are some lofty goals.”
“Aren’t they just.” She blinks in her sleepy way, giving me a satisfied smile worthy of any cat. “Not to sound greedy, but do you have any other presents up your sleeve tonight? You’re very, very good at gifts.”
“For you?” I run my fingers from her navel to her shoulder. “I’ll always have more presents for you.”
And I reach over to my bedside cabinet to find something that’ll match to her current mood. Always ready to impress.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
ISABELLE
The next evening, Sophia claps when I parade before her in my party dress. The black fabric clings to my upper half then, once it hits my thighs, it turns into a long train of tassels that fall to the floor.
If I stand still, I look dressed from head to toe. Move and I’m exposed to mid-thigh. Spin and the whole base twirls out around me, then magically falls back into line the moment I stop.
“Do you want to pick out some earrings?” Baxter asks his daughter, walking into the room with a tray of jewellery, and she bounces enthusiastically in response. She picks up each offering to scrutinise before replacing it with care and moving to the next.
“This might take a while,” he mutters into the curve of my neck, and I turn into the sound, inhaling deeply.
His scent is so delicious it makes my mouth water. Last night, for my second present, he’d blindfolded me using something wider than his tie this time. In the darkness, his touch intensified, riding a line between pleasure and pain until it all blurred into one intoxicating mess of desire. Just the thought sends a frisson of excitement along my bare arms, hairs standing on ends, craving more.
But that’s for another time. Right now, I might look like I’m preparing for a party, but my mind isn’t twisted on this point; it’s work.
And Baxter’s tone is apologetic, but I don’t mind the delay. Sophia can take another three hours to select a fitting pair of earrings and I wouldn’t object in the slightest.
It hasn’t even been a full week since I first stumbled through the front door, cuffed, and coated head to toe in a dead man’s blood. Then, I couldn’t wait to leave again. Now, I’d happily swap my freedom for the illusion of safety within these walls.
I don’t want to parade in front of half the organised crime figures in the city. Even with Baxter close by, the exposure makes my skin crawl.
On the other hand, such a beautiful dress deserves to be wornsomewhere.
“These,” Sophia declares, handing across a dangling set of earrings fashioned from thin silver chains.
They look heavy but are surprisingly light when I fasten them. I twirl my head from side to side in the mirror then blow her a chef’s kiss in gratitude. “Perfect.”
Feliks is babysitting tonight, the guard still as taciturn as he was on the first morning when he escorted me to breakfast. He makes Yuri seem like a chatterbox, although his face displays more animation when he chats to Sophia than to me, so perhaps it’s just a matter of getting to know him.
