Page 69 of Marked By the Mob

“You should eat something,” he says quietly. “And rest. You’ve been at this all night.”

My stomach growls at the mention of food, and I realize I’m actually hungry. “I’m fine.”

“You’re exhausted.” He turns to face me, his gray eyes serious. “Take a break, Emma. The information will still be here when you come back.”

Before I can argue, Artur appears in the doorway carrying a tray loaded with food. The smell of eggs, bacon, and fresh bread makes my mouth water despite my determination to keep working.

“Brunch,” Artur announces, setting the tray on the small table near the window. “Rurik’s orders. You eat, or he comes up here and makes you.”

Holy crap. I’ve been so wrapped up in research, I hadn’t noticed Artur or Rurik leaving the bedroom.

I want to refuse, want to keep digging through files until I have every piece of evidence I need. But my body is screaming for food and rest, and I know pushing myself further won’t help.

Eduard guides me to the table, his hand warm on my lower back. I sink into the chair and reach for the coffee first, letting the hot liquid burn down my throat. Then I start eating, surprised by how ravenous I am.

Artur settles into the chair across from me, his dark eyes amused. “You look like hell, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” I mutter automatically.

“She’s been up all night,” Eduard says, taking the seat beside me. “Found evidence that Hayes might have sabotaged her operation to protect his career.”

Artur’s expression shifts from amused to serious. “That’s a bold move for a federal supervisor.”

“It’s a smart move if you’re ambitious enough.” I take another bite of eggs, chewing slowly. “He opposed the operation from the start. When it went wrong, he positioned himself as the responsible leader who tried to prevent a disaster. The DOJ ate it up.”

“And now he’s getting promoted for it,” Eduard adds.

Artur leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “So Hayes is the mole.”

I want to say yes. Want to close this investigation and have a clear target for my fury. But something nags at me, a detail that doesn’t quite fit.

“Maybe,” I say slowly. “But I need more evidence before I’m certain.”

We finish eating in relative quiet, the exhaustion finally catching up with me. My eyelids feel heavy and I have to fight to keep them open. Eduard notices immediately.

“You’re taking a nap,” he says firmly.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re falling asleep in your chair.” He stands and offers his hand. “Come on. A few hours of rest won’t hurt the investigation.”

I want to argue, but my body betrays me with a jaw-cracking yawn. Eduard’s lips curve into a small smile as he pulls me to my feet and guides me toward the massive bed.

“I’ll stay with you,” he says quietly. “Make sure you actually sleep instead of sneaking back to the laptop.”

I’m too tired to protest. I strip down to my underwear and crawl under the covers. The soft sheets feel like heaven against my exhausted body. Eduard joins me moments later, his warm presence settling behind me as he pulls me against his chest.

His hand slides over my hip, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against my skin. The touch is soothing at first, gentle and comforting. But then his palm flattens against my stomach, pulling me closer, and I feel the hard length of his cock pressing against my ass.

Heat floods through me despite my exhaustion. I shift slightly, grinding back against him, and Eduard’s breath catches.

“Emma,” he murmurs against my ear. “We should sleep.”

“I’m not that tired,” I lie.

His hand slides lower, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my underwear. When he finds me already wet, he groans.

“Your fault,” I breathe, arching into his touch.