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They’d heard every word of our argument. Five times over. All because I was sleeping with the spawn of Satan himself who did not know the meaning of the word no.

“Stas, I’ve already decided.” Yuriy flicked his hair back, twisting it in a topknot like he had all the authority in the room. He clipped it into place, but by the time he dropped his hands, tendrils fell from the restraint, trailing down his neck. The style was messy but suited him, showing off his long, slender neck and the disturbing spider tattoo there that had grown on me. “I’m going.”

“You’re not,” I said because someone had to be the sane one here, and my men still looked so bizarre at the idea of Yuriy and me as a couple that they hadn’t said a word since I let them in. “It’s a meeting, not a parade. Mancini requested me. He didn’t request⁠—”

“I don’t give a flying rat’s decomposing ass what Mancini requested,” Yuriy snapped and somehow managed to make it sound elegant. “I’m not letting you walk into some snake pit alone. For all you know, it’s a setup.”

I clenched my jaw.

“That snake is less likely to bite my head off if I don’t show up with another pakhan they didn’t invite on my arm.”

He shrugged into his jacket like he hadn’t heard a damn thing. “But I make perfect eye candy. Maybe he has a thing for pretty boys.”

I frowned, not liking the idea of Mancini setting his sights on Yuriy. I definitely didn’t appreciate the thought. Scowling, I grabbed Yuriy by his collar and pulled him into me. “You are not to flirt with him.”

“I won’t, you jealous behemoth. You worry too much. It’ll all work out fine.”

“No, I worry exactly the right amount. You worry not at all.”

“That’s why we’re good together.” He stepped into my space, eyes flashing. “You worry, I stab. Perfect balance.”

Christ.

He was giving orders in my hotel as if he paid the bill. Though to be fair, I was the one who checked him out of his. Since he refused to return to our kids’ place, we would spend the rest of the holiday at the hotel because I didn’t want to leave him alone. I would have Christmas dinner with my daughter as planned, and hopefully with Yuriy, if he decided to extend an olive branch to Zasha.

“Yuriy.”

He tilted his head in that slow, dangerous way of his. “Stas… try to stop me.”

My men collectively held their breath. If any of them had talked back to me that way, they would be shitting out teeth for a week.

I dragged a hand down my face. “You make everything harder than it needs to be.”

“That’s what you love about me.” He smirked. “That, and my ginormous di⁠—”

“I swear to god,” I muttered. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“Dick,” he said anyway. Softly. Filthy. With a wink that made my guards turn around in unison. I wished I hadn’t let them in to discuss security while meeting with Mancini. Nico had already briefed them on what to expect with Yuriy and me. Their faces showed that they didn’t accept it, but they wouldn’t fight me on it either. I’d brought only my most trusted men with me, and I expected them to keep silent so the world—namely, Chicago and its environments—didn’t know of my relationship with Yuriy until I was ready.

Yuriy walked past me toward the bathroom door. “We leave in five.”

I caught his arm, and he stopped but didn’t yank away. For a moment, his bravado slipped. Just a fraction. Enough for me to see the knot of fear under all that theatrics.

“You’re not expendable,” I said quietly. “Not to me. I need you to be safe.”

He swallowed once, throat working. “What about you? Who keeps you safe?”

“I brought men for that.”

“And now you have one more. I don’t know about your men’s loyalty, Stas. I don’t know to what extent they would go for you, but I know damn sure that they’d have to walk over my dead body before I let anything happen to you.”

God help me.

I was the pakhan. I’d commanded men older, meaner, and more unruly than entire armies. I’d held together a fracturing syndicate, negotiated with madmen, walked into ambushes with ice in my veins.

But this man?

This man unraveled me with a single, stubborn heartbeat.