Page 106 of Cruel Obsession

“Everything connected to you is connected to me.” He steps closer, backing me against the counter. His body cages mine without touching, the heat of him radiating between us like a physical force. My skin flushes with memories of his hands on my body, his mouth against my ear whispering filthy promises in Russian. “Your phone, you’ll get back when your work is completed. Consider it… motivation.”

“I need to finish cooking,” I say, desperate to break the tension between us. “And there are rooms to clean.”

“Da.” He steps back slightly, though his eyes never leave mine. “I’ve arranged help for you. Two women from the Petrovich household will arrive within the hour to handle the guest rooms and conference space.”

The unexpected concession startles me. “Thank you,” I say cautiously.

“Don’t thank me yet.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “They’re here because I need you focused on more important matters.”

“The dinner.”

“Among other things.” His gaze travels over me with deliberate slowness.

“I should get back to work,” I say, voice uneven.

He nods once, then reaches past me, his chest brushing against mine as he picks up a spoon and tastes the soup. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes my breath catch. For one disorienting moment, we could be any couple in any kitchen—if I ignore the gun I know is holstered beneath his jacket.

“More dill,” he says. “And vodka. A quarter cup in the stock.”

“Vodka wasn’t in the recipe.”

His lips curve slightly. “It’s a Russian dinner,lastochka. Everything is better with vodka.” He moves toward the door, then leaves me standing in a room still echoing with his presence.

I turn back to my work, mind racing as I try to get to grips with this impossible jerk. One minute hot, the next, cold. A dangerous man in a world that scares me.

And on top of it all, the tiny life taking hold in my belly.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Arkady

Stefan stumbles through the door first, looking like death warmed over.

Dark circles bruise the skin beneath his eyes, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping.

“My girl… Arkady.” His voice cracks. “What if they’ve already—”

“They haven’t.” I cut him off before he can finish that thought. “We’re getting her back. Along with Niki.”

The others arrive in quick succession. Yanis walks in with Mikhail trailing behind—our cousin, the tech expert who can crack any security system like it’s made of paper. Then comes Leo, arms folded across his chest, the weapons specialist who never travels light. The twins follow, Alexei and Andrei moving in synch, both former CIA field intelligence officers. Spies, in plain language. Now they freelance, and they often help us out with intel that shouldn’t exist. Last through the door is Yuri, carrying his medical kit.

These are the only men I trust with my life.

An hour ago, Alexei called with confirmation—the warehouse sits empty, scrubbed clean. Which means the girls are exactly where I suspected all along: my father’s basement.

I gesture toward the conference room. “Mirabel’s preparing food. We’ll eat while we plan.”

My men file in, taking their regular seats around the boardroom table. The room hushes. I tap a button, bringing up a series of photos on the screen: the familiar facade of my father’s estate, security points circled in red.

“Thanks to Andrei and Alexei, we have strong intel,” I announce. The twins exchange looks that speak volumes. Their work has always been precise, meticulous. Just the asset we need right now. “I’m not going to bullshit you; this isn’t going to be easy.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Stefan’s voice is gruff, “we won’t make it easy on those fuckers either.”

The air in the room feels dense with purpose. This isn’t just another operation; it’s personal. Every man here knows what happens to the girls my father traffics. Every man here has seen the aftermath.

“If we fail,” Yanis says quietly, “We’re all fucked.”

My jaw tightens. Leave it to Yanis to state the obvious—always the voice of caution. I respect it, but right now we need action, not hesitation.