Before this morning's meeting with the Quinns, I sent everything to my lawyer to draft my new will. Every single thing I own. My investments, businesses, and properties. All of it goes to Lily.
So even if I’m not here… she’ll still have a life without me.
The thought guts me.
I rub the back of my neck as I push open the front door.
Music drifts through the house. And I smile, heading straight for the kitchen, where I find her. I don’t speak at first. I don’t need to. I just watch.
The way she pouts when she’s concentrating. The way she moves so gracefully, even when she’s rummaging through drawers like she’s on a mission.
She makes my heart race just by existing.
She doesn’t look up, but her body stills. Like she senses me.
“Have you got a tape measure anywhere?” she asks, blowing her hair out of her face, still searching through cupboards like I’m not standing here starving for her.
“Yeah. Here.” I say, opening the drawer in the kitchen island and pulling it out. I hold it tight in my fist.
She turns to face me. “Why? Are you measuring up some art for the walls?” I ask.
Her eyes dip. Straight to my crotch. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across her lips. “Something like that,” she mutters, stepping closer.
I lift my arm high above my head, keeping it out of reach. But she doesn’t go for the tape. Her fingers brush my belt instead, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
“What are you doing, baby?” I ask, voice dropping.
I left Lev at Inferno with the guys. That buys me time. Plus, the alert I added to his tracker—if he so much as moves, my phone will light up.
I’m not taking any risks. And I want Lily every second I can get.
She licks her lips, dragging me back to the moment. “Have you ever measured your dick, Drago? Because it’s been bugging me for days.”
A laugh rips out of me. I catch her throat in my hand, towering over her, thumb pressing lightly at her pulse.
“Ten. Hard.” I murmur. “But feel free to confirm the validity of my statement yourself.”
Desire flashes across her eyes. Her pulse kicks against my palm.
And I know, right then, with brutal clarity…
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Or the reason I finally live.
I keep the tape measure held above my head for a second longer just to watch her fight the urge to jump for it. The way her eyes narrow. The way she sets her jaw like she’s about to win.
God, I love her.
“You’re enjoying this,” she mutters.
“Maybe,” I admit, letting my gaze drop down her body slowly. “Maybe I like seeing you hungry.”
Her cheeks turn pink, but she doesn’t look away.
She reaches again, and I finally drop my arm, placing the tape measure into her hand like I’m handing her a weapon.
Because I am.
