The security detail follows me to the subway as always. Two black SUVs, professional and distant. I've stopped trying to lose them. Roman made it clear that his protection isn't negotiable, and fighting it only makes things worse.
I climb the six flights to my apartment, my heels clicking against worn stairs, my purse heavy on my shoulder. The hallway is empty except for one person.
Tyler Chen stands outside my apartment door, holding a bouquet of flowers. Daisies and roses, bright and cheerful and completely at odds with the darkness consuming my life. His wire-rimmed glasses are slightly askew, his brown eyes hopeful behind the lenses.
"Eva! I was hoping to catch you." His smile is so genuine, so sweet, that my heart aches. "I thought maybe we could grab dinner? There's this new Thai place that just opened, and Megan said you love Thai food."
He's so normal. So safe. So completely wrong for me now.
"Tyler, that's really sweet, but I can't?—"
Movement explodes behind me. One of Roman's security guards appears from the stairwell, moving with terrifying speed. Before I can process what's happening, Tyler is on the ground, the guard's knee pressed into his back, flowers scattering across the hallway floor in a burst of color.
18
ROMAN
The office is silent except for the hum of the city forty-two floors below. I lean back in my leather chair, vodka glass in hand, reviewing the financial reports spread across my desk. The numbers blur together after hours of analysis, but the pattern is clear. Abram Yakovlev is systematically destroying everything I've built, and I still can't prove it.
I drain the vodka, feeling the burn settle in my chest, and pour another. The forty-second floor is empty at this hour, just me and the ghosts of failed strategies. My security team is positioned throughout the building, but up here, it's just silence and the weight of an empire crumbling.
The elevator chimes.
My hand moves instinctively toward the gun in the back of my waistband. No one should be here. My security would have called if someone were coming up. I'm on my feet, weapon drawn, when the doors slide open.
Eva storms out, and I freeze.
She's magnificent in her fury. Her blonde hair is coming loose from its usual sleek bun, strands falling around her flushed face. Her brown eyes blaze with an anger I've never seen from her before, and her chest heaves with rapid breaths that make her breasts strain against her blouse. The professional armor she wears so carefully has shattered completely, and I'm seeing the passionate woman beneath for the first time.
"You son of a bitch!" Her voice cracks like a whip across the empty floor.
I lower the gun, putting it securely in my waistband. "Eva. What are you?—"
"Don't." She holds up a hand, her whole body trembling with rage. "Don't you dare act like you don't know what happened."
She doesn't knock, doesn't wait for permission. She bursts into my office, and I find myself backing up slightly, genuinely shocked by the force of her anger. Eva has always been composed, controlled, even when she's afraid. This raw fury is something else entirely.
"Your security guard tackled Tyler to the ground outside my apartment." Her voice shakes. "Tyler, who was just bringing me flowers. Tyler, who's innocent and sweet and did nothing wrong except exist near me."
Fuck. I knew my men were following her, knew they had orders to assess any potential threats. But I didn't authorize violence against some lovesick boy with flowers.
"My men were doing their job," I say, keeping my voice low and controlled. "Any unknown male approaching you is a potential threat. They were protecting you."
"Protecting me?" Eva's laugh is bitter, almost hysterical. "You're terrorizing people in my life! You've turned your protection into a prison. You've made me complicit in your violence, and I'm done. I'm fucking done with all of it."
She moves closer, and I catch the scent of her perfume, that light floral scent that clings so lovingly to her. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted with rapid breathing, and despite her fury, despite everything, my body responds. My cock hardens as I watch her chest rise and fall, as I imagine ripping that blouse open and touching and tasting her.
"You don't understand how dangerous my world is," I tell her, my accent thickening with the effort of maintaining control. "The threats that circle us constantly. My men can't take chances with your safety."
"I understand perfectly." Eva's brown eyes bore into mine. "I understand that you're a criminal. A violent man who does violent things. I've known it since I saw blood on your cuff. I've been living with that knowledge, drowning in it, trying to convince myself that I can survive in your world."
She takes another step closer, and now we're barely a foot apart. I can feel the heat radiating from her body, can see the pulse hammering at her throat. She's afraid, but she's not backing down. That steel spine that first attracted me is on full display.
"But this?" Her voice drops lower, becomes almost dangerous. "Attacking innocent people? Making everyone in my life a target just because they care about me? What gives you the right?"
"What gives me the right?" The question ignites something dark and possessive in my chest. I close the remaining distance between us, crowding into her space, forcing her to tilt herhead back to maintain eye contact. "You gave me the right, Eva. The moment you walked into my office, the moment you let me touch you, the moment you agreed to work for me despite knowing what I am."
Her breath catches, and I watch her pupils dilate. Fear, yes. But also desire. The same hunger that's been consuming me since the first time I kissed her.
