I want Jordan. I want to break the lock on her code and force my way through whatever walls she’s built. I want her to tip her head and expose her throat so I can coax out that same wounded whine she made for me before.
As I leave the room, I crush the thought.
That path will only lead to failure.
Chapter 9
Jordan
The tablet sears my palms, but it’s impossible to set down. Impossible to tear my eyes away.
Ashley tosses her head back, laughing at something off-screen. She looks safe. Normal. So wonderfully alive and oblivious to the danger stalking her.
I can’t breathe. I want to scream. To smash my fists against the windows until they bleed and someone comes to save me so I can save her.
But no one will.
There’s only me.
Me and the architect of this nightmare, the one who dropped this weapon into my hands.
Kirill.
But he’s not a monster.
That’s the twist of the knife.
Most predators I understand. But Kirill’s so cold and calculating. He doesn’t hate me, crave me, or wish me pain. I’m just a variable. A node in his logic tree. A line in his ledger.
And Ashley?
Simply another widget in the equation. Leverage, he called her. As if she’s not flesh and spirit, not a daughter or a friend or a soul. Only a button to push to see what I’ll do.
I slump, hugging the tablet to my chest and sliding down until the bed frame presses against my spine. How did I end up here? How does a spiral of manifestation journals, wellness streams, and water-only breakfasts lead to this? To Ashley in jeopardy because of me?
Kirill’s kiss crackles through my blood, soldering together my shame and desire. I crush my fingers to my lips, desperate to erase the lingering spark of him.
The worst isn’t that he kissed me. It’s that for one bright, reckless moment, I kissed him back. With a killer’s mouth on mine, I felt more alive than I have in years.
What does that make me?
I have you.
His words keep circling in my head. He didn’t say them like a threat. More like a revelation. A possession.
And isn’t that what he meant? I’m his now, to do with as he pleases. To break or bend or discard when he’s done.
But peoplewantpossessions.
So somewhere beyond the surface, beyond why he’s bent on acquiring my father’s things, Kirill wants me.
And want is a human desire. I can work with human.
I just need to figure this out.
If I mess up—if I keep Kirill waiting too long or say the wrong thing—Ashley dies. I know her innocence won’t stop someone like Kirill from hurting her.
So I need to play this carefully.
