Lev finally nods. He knows I’m right.
"I'll prep the tank," Lev says. "Eight AM."
"Get it done, Lev."
He walks to the door, then pauses, looking back. "It's a good plan, Boss. They won't know what hit them."
"No," I say, turning back to the map. "They won't."
The penthouse is silent when I get back. The lights are dimmed, the staff scarce.
I loosen my tie as I walk down the hallway to the master suite. My mind is still racing with tactical layouts. Twelve days. I just need twelve days.
I reach the double doors of the bedroom and push them open.
The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamps. The curtains are drawn, shutting out the world.
Helena stands by the window, her back to me. She’s taken off the velvet dress. It lies in a pool of dark fabric on the floor. She’s wearing one of my white dress shirts. It hangs off her small frame, hitting mid-thigh, the sleeves rolled past her elbows.
It should look ridiculous. Instead, it looks possessive.
She turns as I enter.
Her hair is loose, falling in dark waves around her face. Her makeup is smudged slightly from our kiss earlier.
The air in the room changes instantly as our gazes meet.
The strategic coldness I built up in the office evaporates.
"You took your time," she says softly.
I lock the door behind me.
"Strategy takes time," I say, walking toward her.
"Did you satisfy them?" she asks. "The old men?"
"For now," I say.
I stop a foot away from her. I can smell her scent, something uniquely her. It drugs me.
"And now?" she asks, stepping into my space. She reaches out, her cool fingers grazing the buttons of my shirt. "Who do you need to satisfy now, Konstantin?"
I catch her wrist and look down at her, searching her face.
Does she have any idea what I’m guarding her from? Does she know that while she stands here touching me, I’m calculating blast radii to keep her alive?
"You have work tomorrow," I say.
She pauses, fingers still on my chest. She frowns, sensing the shift. "Work?"
"The North Depot," I say. "I need you to go down there. Inspect the facility. Sign off on the security upgrades."
Her eyes narrow. She’s smart. She knows the North Depot is barely active.
"Why the North Depot?" she asks, tilting her head. "That warehouse has been collecting dust for years. Why send me there now?"
"Because we’re reactivating it," I lie. "With the Venezuelan deal moving, we need secure storage on land. The Harbor is too exposed. I need the facility ready."
