And thensilence.
For a long moment we lie there on the floor, breathing hard, bodies still joined. I brush damp strands of hair from his forehead, pressing a gentler kiss to his lips. He smiles up at me, soft and sated, eyes shining with something dangerously close to affection.
I do not tell him why I really came over. How could I?
I do not tell the boy that tonight’s meeting could end with me in a body bag if Viktor has turned. The boy doesn’t deserve this moment to be sullied with that kind of talk.
I simply hold him for a few more minutes, memorizing the way he feels beneath me, the way his fingers trace lazy patterns on my back.
Eventually I help him up, both of us dressing in quiet silence. The electricity still hums between us, but reality is already pressing back in.
I cup his face with one hand, thumb brushing his lower lip.
“I have to go,” I say. “There are things I must handle tonight.”
He nods, and it’s almost like he understands. “Okay. Will I see you soon? Please tell me I will…”
“Soon,” I promise, though the word tastes uncertain on my tongue.
I kiss him once more—slow, deep, trying to say everything I cannot voice—then force myself to leave.
As I walk down the stairs to the waiting SUV, the weight of the day returns in full force.
Weapons moving. Possible betrayal. A meeting that could decide everything.
And Teddy. Bright, soft, submissive Teddy who just gave himself to me so completely on his living room floor and climaxed with me in a way that I’ve never experienced before. We were one. And I want that to continue.
But if tonight goes wrong, I may never see him again.
The thought burns worse than any bullet could.
I climb into the car, jaw tight, and give the driver the signal to move.
War is coming.
And for the first time, I have something—someone—I am terrified of losing.
Chapter 11
Kirill
I step out of the SUV and into the cool evening air, the engine still idling behind me. My driver and the two guards watch me silently. I raise a hand, signaling them to stay.
This journey I must make alone.
If I have told Viktor to come without security, then I must honor the same condition. Anything less would make me a hypocrite, and in our world, hypocrisy is a weakness that gets you killed.
I’m not just carrying my name, but the name of my father before me. And that means something real in this world.
I walk to the private garage attached to the building and slide into my two-seater vintage sports car — a sleek, black Aston Martin DB5 restored to perfection. The leather seats are cool against my back. The engine growls to life with a deep, throaty rumble that vibrates through my chest.
I pull out onto the street alone, the city lights streaking past as I head toward the outskirts. The weight of the evening presses on me.
Ivan has arranged the meeting.
Viktor has agreed.
No security. Just the two of us on a quiet stretch of coast. I hope he is still a man of honor. If he is not, tonight could end in blood.
