The Strakh family doesn’t just disappear.They hide in plain sight, fortified by fear and an ancient code of conduct that this world could never understand.Scary shit.
Wolfson isn’t just dangerous.He’s fucking mesmerizing.Ethereal beauty with a predator underneath.Dove is vulnerable to men like him.Broken, beautiful, seductive men.She’ll fall.She always does.
Which means I have no choice.He goes on the list.Another problem.Another threat.Another mess to clean up.
This was supposed to be Gavin’s responsibility.If he’d kept his mouth shut and his dick in his pants, Dove wouldn’t have followed me to Alaska and entangled herself with the Strakhs.
A soft moan rises from the adjoining room, followed by a muffled laugh and a deeper grunt.
Gavin is in there with another man, getting his donut glazed, their groans seeping through the thin walls.
I clench my jaw, annoyance twisting into rage.
He had one fucking job.
But like everyone else, he’s a goddamn disappointment.Sex blinds him.Makes him careless.If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the only eyes I can trust are my own.
To think, I studied him for months, sharing his bed while digging through his secrets.He needed a bride and a better financial standing to appease his conservative family, and I saw an opportunity.
When the feds discovered me a year ago, I paid Gavin to watch Dove so I could vanish to Alaska.
Convincing him to marry her was easy.
He hides his sexuality for appearance’s sake.Unbeknownst to her, she was to be his cover, and as a bonus, he would make some money to fund that lavish lifestyle he can’t afford.
Tricking Dove to take the bait was the challenge.
I knew she would be attracted to him.Every man and woman with a pulse finds Gavin sexy.He’s a real Matt Bomer type.Impossible to resist with his chiseled jaw, bedroom-blue eyes, and pretty-boy smile that could sell salvation to a sinner.
She didn’t know he’s gay to his core.Not until his confession yesterday.He’s masculine as hell, physically fit, perfectly groomed, and smells like expensive things.
Hitching her to a gay man was a calculated risk.
I don’t want anyone—gay or straight—touching my sister.
Of course, I know she slept with him.I had to coach him through it, step by fucking step, so he could fake his way into her bed.I told him what she likes, how she moves, what makes her unravel.I crafted the whole unholy performance like a director coaching an actor, and he nailed it.
The knowledge that his hands were on her, that his mouth touched her skin… Fuck, it boils my blood.Just picturing his lips on her—his filthy, lying mouth—makes me want to gut him right here and now.
Did I watch them together?Yeah, I fucking did.Through a camera lens, of course.
No one knows her like I do.Every trigger, guarded thought, and freckle on her body—she’s etched into my brain like scripture.
I shaped Gavin into her perfect distraction, taught him how to talk to her, move around her, and disarm her with carefully planted charm.I built him like a weapon, tailored to break through her armor.
I did it all for her.
She needs structure and guardrails.She needs protection from our enemies.She needs protection fromme.
Now I’m back in Cali because no matter how much I trusted Gavin to be her babysitter, trust is always broken.
I shift my weight, tapping impatiently on the phone screen, cycling through dozens of recorded camera feeds.
Inside the mechanic shop, Dove wipes her hands on a rag and walks to the corner of the garage where the only camera is mounted.She looks directly at the lens, flips off the camera, and mouths,Fuck you, Jag.
Real mature.
My good hand twitches to smack all that rebellious metal out of her pretty face.When it comes to her, my resentment battles with my infatuation.She doesn’t know the lengths I’ll go to keep her locked down.
