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“They won’t risk it, not yet.” Of that, I’m certain.

A loud ping comes from my computer, making me frown. My shoulders stiffen when I read the subject line of the email.

Subject: Naughty boy, Pet. I’m going to have to give you a spanking next time I see you.

I stare at it a little too long, wondering what the hell it could mean. Why is she emailing me? How did she get my email in the first place? I change it constantly, never using the same one for longer than a week, maybe two.

The idea she’s a hacker is looking more and more credible.

“What? What’s going on?” Zakhar rushes around behind me, and I don’t bother to hide the email. He’ll figure it out on his own anyway. “Fuck. This bitch again? What the hell is she trying to pull now?”

I open the email and see a copy of a DNA test. I frown, confused. “What the hell is this?”

I peer closer, scanning the data. A bunch of medical jargon that means nothing to me, except at the bottom. The results show no match, and it’s highlighted with a frowning face in bright red.

“What did you do?” I murmur. I don’t need to wonder who sent this in.

“I sent the stapler she grabbed and a couple of things still on your desk to our lab,” Zakhar states. “Had them put it under a random name in case she figured out we were looking, but I guess that didn’t work.”

I don’t know if I’m appreciative or annoyed. I want to know who this woman is, find her, but at the same time, pissing her off irritates me. Will this make her angry with me? Try to kill me this time? Or will it send her running underground, and I’ll never find her?

Why does it bother me so fucking much to think I’ll never see her again?

And who does she know in that lab that would alert her they were trying to match her DNA?

That is a problem for later.

“Well, now she knows we were looking, so I guess we can assume she’s gone back into hiding,” I clip out, getting to my feet.

“We’ll find her. I’m not going to let her get to you again, Ilya.”

“If she was going to kill me, she’d have done it by now. Put the pause on trying to find her, Zakhar. We have things that are more important that need to be a priority.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I know. Honestly, I forgot all about that since it was months ago. Surprised it took them that long to process it.” I give him a you’re-an-idiot stare. “Okay, okay, so she found out and has been holding onto them this long.” He frowns. “So why did she send it to you now?”

“Who the fuck knows, and I don’t care. Get everything ready for us to leave in two hours.” I stalk out of my office, confident he’ll make sure it’s done.

His question swirls in my head, but I can’t allow it to take hold. Finding the woman I dream about every night is an obsession I can’t allow myself to indulge in right now. Not yet.

My search for her isn’t finished yet. I will find her; I will make her pay for that stunt the last time I had her in my grasp, and then I’ll decide what I want to do with her.

I’ve had time to let most of my initial anger cool, and killing her isn’t the goal any longer. Now, it’s making her submit. To realize the game she’s playing, she will never win. A man like me doesn’t lose.

Thank God Zakhar and Oleg stopped following me all around the fucking place, because if he followed me now, I’d probably punch him. I have too much to think about to deal with his overprotectiveness, and a part of me wonders if I’m going to run into my stalker along the way.

I don’t need an audience for that encounter.

The house is bustling with people, and all of them scurry out of my way as I stalk toward my bedroom. The one room in the house where I can be alone without anyone interrupting me. Even my men avoid me as they patrol the halls.

When I reach my bedroom door, I dismiss the guards outside it. Another one of Zakhar’s ideas, but unnecessary. Whoever the woman is, she hasn’t tried anything in months, and the email is the first contact I’ve had since we fucked on my desk. Even if she tries to get to me again, it won’t be tonight.

So I have time to shower and get my head in the game. This meeting is crucial, and nothing can go wrong. Not if I want the rest of the pieces of my plan to fall in place.

Getting into the shower, I put my head under the spray, bracing my hands on the cool tiles, and close my eyes. Relaxing my shoulders, I clear my mind, enjoying the warm water pelting me.

Being a Pakhan isn’t easy. The responsibilities on my shoulders are vast, and the lives of thousands rely on me to make the right decisions, including a possible war with Timur Belov. A war that will see me losing men. Unavoidable, and the price they all know they have to be willing to pay, but that doesn’t make it easier.

It won’t stop me. I’ve worked too fucking hard to build everything to where it is now to let Timur Belov, the Chameleon, or anyone fucking else get in the way.