“What is this about?” I ask without greeting.
Viktor leans forward, voice barely above a whisper. “We may have a problem. One of my men intercepted a message tonight. The Mexicans are moving faster than we thought. They have a target.”
He slides a folded piece of paper across the table. I open it and read the short list of names and locations. My own name is near the top.
I fold the paper again and meet his gaze, the familiar steel settling back into my spine.
“Then we move first,” I say quietly.
The softness of the evening with Teddy is already a distant memory.
The war is no longer coming.
It is already here.
Chapter 15
Teddy
Two days have passed since I last saw or heard anything from Kirill, and it feels likeforever.
I keep checking my phone like a nervous teenager, hoping for a text, a missed call, anything.
Nothing.
Just radio silence.
The man who carried me up my steps, kissed my forehead, and told me goodnight like he owned every part of me has vanished into thin air. No explanation. No “I’ll call you.” Just…gone.
And it’s messing with my head.
This morning at the gym I was a mess. I kept losing count during sets, snapping at a client who didn’t deserve it, and nearly dropped a dumbbell on my foot because my mind kept drifting back to the park—his hand spanking me hard against the tree, his mouth between my legs, the way it made my body and mind feel so out of this world incredible.
But now the worry is winning. What if something happened to Kirill? Or what if he decided I’m too much trouble? Worse… what if he’s hurt?
I’m distracted, anxious, and it’s showing.
Tonight at improv class it’s even worse.
We’re doing a scene about a dysfunctional family dinner, and I keep missing my cues. It should be funny. It’s exactly the kind of thing that I’m normally so good at. Btu my lines come out flat. I forget to react when Skeet, playing my dramatic sister, throws an imaginary plate. Dermott watches from the side with that familiar furrowed brow he gets when one of us is off.
After the scene ends, he waves me over.
Oh no.
This isn’t good.
This isn’t good at all…
“Teddy, a word?”
I follow Dermott to the edge of the stage, my cheeks burning. Skeet gives me a sympathetic little wave from across the room.
Dermott lowers his voice. “Just relax, you’re not in trouble. But is everything okay? You’re not yourself tonight. Your energy is all over the place.”
I force a bright smile, the one I’ve perfected for clients and auditions. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. I’ll do better. Promise.”
Dermott studies me for a long moment, eyes kind but sharp. He can see right through the fake optimism. “Sit with me for a bit.Watch the others. Take a breath. Let your emotions settle before you jump back in.”
