An indescribable tsunami instantly swallowed what remained of my reason.
"Wow, that's pretty cool."
I hastily covered my panic, said nothing more, just turned away somewhat frantically and pressed my burning forehead hard against the cold window glass.
The night scene rushed backward like a tide outside, and that indefinable flutter and longing I'd been unable to grasp finally broke through all the fog in this moment, accompanying Sasha's raspy words, becoming unprecedentedly clear, scorching, even carrying a destructive weight.
It was a dangerous seed that had already started taking root and sprouting wildly in the dark mafia swamp.
But looking at my own blue eyes reflected in the glass—full of panic and wavering—in this silent, unnerving deep night, I ultimately squeezed my eyes shut tight, not daring to continue down that fatal path.
Chapter Thirteen
Nikolai
Click, click.
Footsteps echoed.
I looked up just in time to see Vivienne descending the spiral staircase.
Instantly, some primal hunger shattered all the bullshit about territory, weapons, and the Council cluttering my brain.
She stood at the center of the spiral staircase, and that custom midnight blue velvet gown didn't just make her skin look like snow—it traced every goddamn curve of her hourglass figure with brutal precision. The plunging neckline rose and fell with her breathing, that collision of wild and refined making her look like some regal queen who'd turn into a predator tearing apart prey by midnight.
My woman. The thought consumed me completely.
I narrowed my eyes, my gaze sliding from her flushed earlobes down, finally stopping at those long, sleek legs made even more devastating by her heels. My throat worked involuntarily.
She clearly caught my stare. A flash of discomfort crossed her face, but she recovered fast. She descended the steps, stopped three paces from me, then—like some properly trained aristocratic lady—gracefully lifted her skirt, bent her knees slightly, and executed a perfect curtsy.
"Well? How'd I do, boss?" She lifted her head, mouth quirking with challenge. "Guess Mrs. Gable's boot camp paid off?"
I stepped forward without answering directly. I took her gloved hand and pressed an outrageously chivalrous kiss to her knuckles.
"You're breathtaking tonight, sweetheart." I looked up at her reddening face, deliberately dropping my voice. "Though I'm more interested in what comes after—peeling that dress off you."
"You—" Vivienne's eyes went wide, face going crimson. "You're a goddamn beast in a tux!"
"Thanks for the compliment, Vivienne." I released her hand and turned toward the door, waving dismissively. "Glad you think so highly of your future husband."
Behind me came her furious muttering.
My smile widened.
The car pulled out of the estate gates onto the highway toward the city.
I sat in back, flipping through files on tonight's key players. Sasha drove up front, the cabin silent except for the engine's low purr.
Vivienne sat beside me, body rigid, hands folded properly in her lap.
She'd maintained that position since we got in the car. Hadn't said a word.
Something was off.
This woman usually seized every chance to snap at me, but now she was quiet as a kid heading to finals.
I closed the file and turned to her.
