And so, I realize with absolute certainty that I am falling for the enemy.
19
VICTOR
Darkness wraps around us, broken only by the faint glow coming in from the living room doorway. I can't tell if it's been ten minutes or two hours since I heard her final, breathless moans as she shattered beneath me, her body arching, her nails digging into my back.
We also haven't spoken since. Instead, we're just lying here in the aftermath, her blonde hair spilling across my arm, her breath warm against my chest.
I should be strategizing. Planning my next move. Calculating how to extract the intel from that ring and disappear before Dimitri's men find us. But all I can do is stare at the ceiling, my fingers tracing random circles on her bare shoulder, wondering what the fuck I just did.
I slept with a woman who works for my enemy. A woman who literally stabbed me. A woman whose entire purpose in this operation was to outmaneuver me.
I rub my forehead, the thoughts almost unbearable.
This is the most reckless thing I've ever done, and I've orchestrated coups, bribed senators, and laundered hundreds of millions through offshore accounts without breaking a sweat.
If Lucian found out, he'd strip me of my position. If Adrian knew, he'd probably laugh his ass off before reminding me I'm supposed to be the smart one. And Matei? I stop considering it.
And yet, looking down at her, at her delicate figure and the way she curves perfectly into my body, I realize I don't care.
In some ways, from the moment I first saw her, this was the only outcome. I don't think I ever truly wanted to kill her. I wanted this. I just didn't know it yet.
That damn red dress was my downfall.
And when she looks at me, she makes me feel like...
"Hey, you awake?" she asks, her soft voice pulling me from my thoughts.
I shift slightly, my hand trailing down her side, enjoying the warmth of her skin beneath my palm.
"Yeah. Didn't know you were," I say quietly.
She turns her head, those blue eyes meeting mine in the darkness. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then she props herself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down.
"Can you answer one question for me?"
I nod, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "Depends what it is."
"Why are you even going after the Volkovs anyway?" she asks, her tone genuinely curious rather than accusatory. "Back in Constan?a, you said, 'For my family.'"
I sigh. The question is loaded, but lying to her now, in this moment, feels wrong somehow.
"Your leader," I say, keeping my voice low, "was involved in something that devastated my family."
Her brow furrows. "What are you talking about?"
I sit up slightly, leaning back against the headboard. "They took a girl they shouldn't have. Money they shouldn't have. Actually, they've taken a lot of girls they shouldn't have."
She looks at me with sharp eyes. "Like trafficking?"
"Yes. And while the deal I'm most interested in was started by my father, the Volkovs were active participants. That's why I'm here and why I want him dead."
Danika's eyes widen, and for the first time since I met her, she looks genuinely shocked. She shakes her head slowly, her lips parting.
"What? No. They don't traffic women. I would know. That's a line they wouldn't cross."
"Would you know?" I ask softly, my thumb tracing her collarbone. "You told me earlier you just get told what to do, not why."
