Page 26 of Claimed By the Boss

I don’t say another word.

He disappears.

Andrea steps in less than a minute later. “He’s leaving.”

“Make sure security walks him out.”

Once the door shuts, I let myself exhale. The tension doesn’t leave; it just shifts. I’ve been thinking about this all week. About Lyra. She didn’t ask me to intervene, but she must have known I would, the same way I stepped in when that man at the restaurant harassed her.

My private line rings, and I already know there’s going to be some new kind of bullshit.

I answer brusquely. “What?”

Alek’s voice is low and clipped. “You’re not going to like this.”

“I rarely do.”

“There’s word on the street. Rurik’s people are pissed. You embarrassed them, and there’s going to be a response.”

I glance toward the window, watching the sky darken over the skyline. “Of course there is.”

“They’re calling for retaliation.”

“They’d need balls for that.”

“They might have them now,” he says. “You know how this works. When you kill two of theirs, they don’t care what the justification is. They have to make noise.”

“They sent men intomybuilding with weapons.”

“I’m not arguing,” Alek says. “But Rurik’s not going to back down. He’ll throw bodies at this until it feels like he’s won.”

My jaw tightens.

“Maybe lay low this weekend,” he suggests. “At least for a night or two.”

I almost laugh. “You want me to lay low?”

“I want you to be alive on Monday.”

“Unfortunately, I already have plans this weekend that I can’t cancel,” I tell him. “Besides, Rurik isn’t going to intimidate me in my own city.”

Alek exhales. “What do you want me to do?”

“Be ready.”

“For what?”

“For whatever the hell they think they’re going to try.”

I set the phone down and return to my desk. I look over the itinerary for my date. Andrea arranged the details, but shedoesn’t know it’s a date or who my companion will be. It simply falls within her job to manage my social calendar.

We’ve got a private room at an upscale place on the Upper East Side. It’s nearly impossible to get a reservation, but my name carries weight in certain rooms. I can’t wait to see how Lyra reacts, especially after working at Maison Royale for so long.

When I pick her up the following evening, she steals my breath the moment she steps out of her building. She’s wearing a simple black dress that hugs her body like an old friend. Her hair is down, styled to look casual. She wants to pretend that this date doesn’t mean as much as it does.

I watch from the backseat as she hesitates, her eyes scanning the tinted windows of my town car. She smooths her hands down the sides of her thighs, then squares her shoulders and steps forward.

I step out and open the door for her before she can even reach for it. I offer to help her in. She refuses my hand and slides in herself.