Page 27

My cock hardens, and I grip the paper so tight it tears. Fuck.

Zakhar peers over my shoulder and chokes. “Fuck,” he rasps, then laughs.

Oleg does the same and curses before he turns and stalks out. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he gripes before the door slams.

“Damn, brother, I wish I had a stalker that did that shit. Lucky bastard.”

I don’t pay him any attention, trying to figure out what it means. What she’s trying to tell me.

The picture is of a make-your-own dildo kit lying on a backdrop of white satin, with a ball gag and butt plug next to it. But it’s the mirror in the back, the one that shows a reflection of a faceless woman, legs spread, fingers buried deep in her cunt.

I don’t need to wonder who she is. There is nothing identifiable about her, nothing that will give me a way to track her down. The room is empty other than these items and her.

The memory of her taste fills my senses, and I bite back a curse of my own, knowing I can’t find her and make good on my promise. Fuck. I want to feel her cunt wrapped around me one more time before I kill her.

I look at the note.

Not as good as the real thing, but my fingers will have to do until next time. Might be a bit of time until then, but know I’m thinking of you, Pet. And every time you think you’re getting close, just know I’ll be planning for our next meeting. And next time, we’ll make sure I leave with a souvenir.

-Happy hunting, Pet.

There’s no signature, but I don’t expect one.

I lower the paper to the desk, face down. I don’t want Zakhar looking at it anymore. This picture is mine. She’s not for his or anyone else’s eyes.

“Find her,” I bite out as I shove the paper and photo into my blazer pocket.

“Brother—”

“Don’t fucking argue with me, Zakhar. Find her.” I get to my feet and head upstairs to my bedroom without another word. He follows, ignoring my glare and orders to leave me alone.

When I walk inside, I can smell her. A soft vanilla scent. Vague, only a whisp, and I know it was purposeful. She wants me to smell her, to think of her.

I look around the room, searching for anything else. Nothing is out of place. Not a single thing moved.

“Where was the note?”

“On your pillow.”

I move to the bed, look around, pick up the pillow, and inspect it carefully. Nothing is out of the ordinary, but then again, she’s not ordinary. Whoever this woman is, toying and playing with me, she’s too clever to make it obvious.

My bed is large but open to the room. The ceilings are well over ten feet tall, and there’s no real place for her to hide. I learned a long time ago you never give someone places to hide if they make it this far. I have an open sitting area with a TV over the large fireplace. The couch sits against the wall; there’s no way for someone to sneak up behind me. A set of stairs leads up to the second floor of my walk-in closet and private office area. I rarely use it, but it’s useful on nights when I need to stay up late to catch up.

I glance toward the open en suite bathroom door, but even from here, there’s nothing I can see. It hasn’t been disturbed.

“She wasn’t here long,” I say. “She left this and got out.”

“Probably knew she was at risk of being discovered. I’ll search the entire floor again.”

“She’s gone.” I can feel it. “Search the grounds. She won’t have gone far. I can still smell her, which means she hasn’t gotten far.”

Zakhar starts barking orders as I move toward the French doors leading out to my balcony. It overlooks the lake and the surrounding mountains.

The perfect place for my little stalker to hide.

“I’m going to find you,” I mutter. “I’m going to enjoy returning the favor and breaking you.”

Dogs bark, and orders scream out as my men set off to comb the forest.