Page 36 of Wicked Mafia Beast
"Sloane said this nearly cost her everything. Make damn sure you sink your father. I promised I would pass along her message."
Her hands tremble as she takes the bag from me, fingers running over the worn leather like she's greeting an old friend. She clutches it against her chest and exhales, some of the tension draining from her shoulders.
"Thank you." The words come out thick, rough with emotion she's trying to swallow. "I thought I'd lost everything in here. Months of work. Evidence that—" She stops, shakes her head, presses her lips together. "Just... thank you."
I give her a short nod, uncomfortable with the gratitude shining in her eyes.
"Can I see her?" The question comes before I've even turned away, hope and desperation warring in her voice. "Sloane. Please. I need to know she's really okay. I need to see it for myself."
"Nyet."
"Kon—"
"She's healing. Under guard. Your uncle's men know who bought you last night. Seamus will have opinions about his enemy owning the woman who can destroy him, and he will come for you. Every contact you make is a thread he can pull." I hold her gaze, letting her see I won't bend on this. "When Seamus is dealt with, you'll see her. Not before."
Her jaw tightens, frustration flickering hot in her eyes. For a moment I think she'll argue, push back the way she does with everything else. Instead, she hugs the bag tighter and gives me a single, clipped nod.
"Fine. But the second it's safe?—"
"The second it's safe, I'll take you myself."
I pour more coffee and watch her eat and tell myself this is strategy. Keep her comfortable. Keep her talking. Extract the intelligence she promised in exchange for protection.
The lie tastes like grit in my mouth. I wanted to get close to her the second I saw her in the back alley getting snatched off the street. The fight in her spoke to something inside me I didn't know was still listening.
After breakfast, she follows me to my office like a shadow I didn't ask for but can't seem to shake. I sit behind my desk and pull up security reports, the leather of my chair creaking as I settle into the familiar position. She perches on the edge of the couch against the wall, legs crossed, that damn sweater slipping off her shoulder again to reveal a strip of creamy skin that catches the early afternoon light slanting through the windows.
I force my eyes back to the screen.
"Your encryption is outdated," she says after maybe five minutes of blessed silence.
My jaw tightens. "Excuse me?"
"The security protocols on your network. I can see the router blinking from here." She points to the small black box on the shelf, its green light pulsing steadily. "That model has a known vulnerability in the firmware. I could probably break through your firewall in twenty minutes."
"You couldn't."
"Want to bet?"
I look up. She's grinning at me, challenge bright in those blue eyes, and the urge to wipe that smug expression off her face wars with the urge to kiss her until she can't remember her own name.
"The security system was designed by Luca. He's the best in the business."
"I'm sure he is. But even the best miss things." She uncrosses her legs and leans forward, elbows on her knees, and the movement makes her sweater gape just enough to hint at the shadow of cleavage beneath. "I'm just saying, if you want me to take a look, I could probably tighten things up. Consider it a down payment on the intelligence I owe you."
"You owe me more than encryption advice."
The words come out rougher than I intended, loaded with implications. Her grin fades, replaced by something more complex. Awareness mixed with heat.
"I know what I owe you." Her voice is steady, but I catch the slight tremble in her fingers where they grip her knees. "I made the offer. I intend to honor it."
"That's not what I meant."
She cocks a brow at me and I can already see the sass ready to flow off her tongue.
"Isn't it, Konstantin?"
Silence stretches between us. The steady tick of the antique clock on my bookshelf lands like hammer strikes in the quiet. She doesn't look away. Doesn't back down. Just holds my gaze with that stubborn defiance that makes me want to break her and worship her in equal measure.
