And then she slips the gun from my hand and vanishes through the door,
leaving me hard, annoyed, and completely in love with the most dangerous creature on earth.
Raf arrives ten minutes early.I’m still agitated as hell when my guard announces him. Oksana has been gone less than an hour, and I trust her—God, I trust her—but fuck, she’s my wife. My responsibility. It's my job to keep her safe. And she’s making that job harder than any enemy ever could. Before the meeting with Raf starts, I make a few phone calls. I get drones in the air, trailing her. Then I stare at the screen, keeping my eyes on my gunmetal-gray Bugatti Chiron Pur Sport as she drives down the road into the city. She had better not leave a scratch on it. Or herself.
Finally, Raf steps into my living room, giving the place a once-over, and his mouth twitches. "You’re using Russian guards now?"
I almost smile. Almost. "The situation is… delicate."
"That’s one word for it." He nods toward Oksana's men, then takes the coffee I hand him. Like we've done a hundred times before. Before…
He sits, posture relaxed but ready, the same lethal quiet he's always carried, but there is something else there now, too—the acknowledgment of power.
"I’m sorry about your father," he says.
My jaw tightens. "You knew." It's not a question.
He doesn’t flinch. "Some. Not about Nico. I would’ve told you if I’d known that."
I stare at him. Long and hard. That’s not nothing. And I believe him. Still, "You should’ve told me about Gustave," I snap.
He drags a hand through his hair. "I would’ve, in Vegas, but then… things escalated."
A sharp breath leaves me, something close to a laugh. "That’s one word for it."
I throw his words back at him. We exchange a commiserating glance before he shoots back, "You knew I was building my own shadow kingdom and never said a word. You knew about Leonardo."
I bark out a real laugh at that. "I was going to tell you in Vegas…"
His eyes narrow with begrudging humor.
"And then things escalated," we finish together.
We stare at each other for a beat. And then both of us laugh, short and rough. Two men who should probably be enemies. But he feels more like a brother-in-arms, and we work dangerously well together when the world’s on fire.
It hangs between us now: We were a good team.
Maybe we still are.
Raf leans back, studying me with that surgical intelligence of his.
"You look like a man trying not to think about something," he says.
I shake my head. "Someone."
He doesn’t ask who. He knows.
"Oksana?" he guesses.
"Meeting Grigori," I mutter, rubbing my jaw. "Alone."
Raf whistles low. "Brave woman."
"Fucking impossible woman," I correct, but there’s no heat to it. Only… feeling.
Raf’s gaze flickers with something I don’t recognize at first. Understanding? Maybe even—respect.
"She can handle him," he says.
