Getting defensive now would be weakness.
Ivan would not bring this to me lightly, I know him too well for that to be a possibility.
“Continue,” I say, my voice controlled.
“I have threads pointing to someone close to the inner circle,” Ivan says carefully. “Financial irregularities. Unusual communications. Timing that matches the weapons movements. I need more time to be certain, but the signs are there.”
I nod once, jaw tight. “Dig deeper. I give you permission to investigate anyone in the Antonov family — no exceptions. Report only to me. If it is one of mine betraying us, I will deal with it personally.”
Ivan studies me for a moment, then nods. “Understood.”
We finish our drinks in near silence. The weight of potential betrayal sits heavy between us. When we part, I shake his hand firmly, but inside I feel the familiar cold resolve settling back into place.
Trust is a blade that cuts both ways tonight.
* * *
Later that evening, I find myself parked outside Teddy’s acting class again.
I should not be here, I know that. The meeting with Viktor looms in my mind, the cartel threat grows heavier by the hour, and yet the pull toward him is stronger than reason.
When the boy steps out with the other students, laughing at something one of them says, my chest tightens. He looks bright and alive, untouched by the shadows that follow me. The moment his eyes find my car, his expression shifts—surprise, pleasure, and that familiar flicker of nervousness.
I roll the window down. “Get in.”
He hesitates only a second before crossing the street and sliding into the passenger seat. I pull away smoothly, driving toward a quiet park nearby. We walk along the tree-lined path as the sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the grass.
Teddy is quiet at first, then turns to me with that mix of sass and vulnerability I have come to crave.
“I still haven’t made up my mind about us,” the boy says, lifting his chin. “And you can wait as long as I say you have to wait. Sobleurghto you.”
The words are pure brat—challenging, teasing, testing my control. My Daddy instincts surge forward instantly, hot and possessive.
I stop walking, turn to him, and back him up against the thick trunk of an old oak tree. The bark is rough against his back. Before he can protest, I spin him around, yank his jeans and briefs down to his thighs in one swift motion, and bring my hand down hard on his bare ass.
The first sharp smack echoes in the quiet park.
Teddy gasps, hands flying back instinctively.
“Kirill—!”
“Quiet,” I growl, spanking him again, harder. “You donottell me how long I have to wait, malysh. You are mine. You belong to me. And brats who sass their Daddy get corrected, no matter the time or place.”
I proceed to heat his ass thoroughly.
Firm, measured swats that turn his pale skin pink, then red. He squirms and whimpers, but his hips push back toward my hand,betraying how much he needs this. When his bottom is glowing and he is breathing in soft, needy little gasps, I drop to my knees behind him.
I spread his cheeks and bury my face between his ass cheeks, licking his puckered hole with long, hungry strokes and flicks. Teddy moans loudly, hands bracing against the tree as I devour him. My tongue circles his hole, teases him as my hands reach to his front and grip on his cock.
I begin to flick my tongue faster as I jerk his cock, his front and back enjoying every moment of my attention as he groans in pleasure.
“Cum for me,” I command, in between bouncing my tongue back and forth onto his willing ass hole.
Teddy shatters with a choked cry, as he pushes his ass deep onto my mouth as his cock stiffens and trembles in my hand, shooting cum over the top of my fist. I keep licking and wanking the boy through every pulse until he is whimpering and oversensitive.
Only then do I stand, pull his jeans back up, and turn him to face me. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
I brush my finger over his face, my voice low and rough.
