I lift my chin. “And if I say no?”
His eyes hold mine. “Then I find someone else,” he says.
The answer is exactly what it should be. Professional. Direct. Logical. Why does it still sting?
I swallow that down fast. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Something in his shoulders eases, just slightly.
“But,” I add, before he can move, “if I’m doing this in a week, then no more games. No more cryptic orders, no more disappearing, no more acting like I imagined everything that happened between us.”
His expression goes still. “You want impossible things.”
“I want basic sanity.”
A faint breath leaves him that might almost be a laugh. Then he nods once. “Do your job, Zatanna. I’ll do mine.”
That is not the answer I wanted.
And yet I know it’s the only one I’m getting.
He reaches for the door again, then pauses. “One week,” he says without looking back. “And if you succeed, the money is yours.”
He then leaves me alone in the break room with cold coffee on the counter, my pulse hammering, and the sickening realization that I just agreed to help the man I want more than anything marry someone else?—
For an amount of money big enough to ruin my life in a whole new way.
21
ALEKSEI
One week.That’s all she has. That’s all I have.
I’m running out of time.
It’s time to secure the inheritance. Time to outmaneuver my father. Time to find out who put a car on me and hands on her. And, if I have any sense left at all, time to get Zatanna out of my head.
I walk out of the break room without looking back, but I can still feel her there. Angry, shocked, breathing too fast. The image sticks under my skin all the way down the hall and into the elevator, and by the time I reach the lobby I’m more wound up than when I walked in.
One week. Just one week.
I gave her money as leverage because money is something I understand. Deadlines are something I understand. Transactions, contracts, pressure. Those are safe.
Wanting her is none of those things.
My phone buzzes before I reach the car.
I answer without checking. “What.”
Alena laughs softly in my ear. “And here I was thinking near-death experiences might improve your manners.”
I stop walking.
So she knows that too.
“Careful,” I say quietly.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic. If I knew details, I’d say them. I only know enough to hear that someone’s getting sloppy around you.”
