Page 10 of Desperate Crimes (Mergers & Acquisitions #6)

S he’s alert.

So fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her.

But I do.

I can’t not look at her.

I just watch her from behind the screen, mesmerized as she takes it all in.

Her fear is outweighed by her curiosity.

My Princess has more spark than I knew.

And I like it.

Yeah, I fucking like it a lot.

I can see it in the flicker of her dark lashes, the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes dart across the room like she’s calculating every possible exit.

Smart girl.

But she won’t find one.

Not here. Not now. Not until I allow it.

I lean forward in my chair, eyes locked on the central monitor in front of me.

The entire estate is wired with the best surveillance tech money, and power can buy.

Sigma International, of course, with all the new advances brought to it by Callahan Group and the genius of Balor Cruz, Lucy Volkov’s new husband.

It’s all hooked up and working as it should —hidden, seamless, untouchable.

No angles missed. No blind spots.

She’ll never see them, but I see everything.

And right now?

She’s standing barefoot on the cream rug, the hem of that red dress skimming her thighs, arms folded tight across her chest like a shield she doesn’t know is already cracked.

God, she’s beautiful.

I drink her in like a dying man at a well.

Her flushed cheeks, her narrowed eyes, the soft flush spreading across her chest.

She’s angry. Panicked. Pacing now, muttering to herself.

Fiery.

Mine.

Every room in this place was built for her. Tailored to the secret preferences she never thought anyone noticed.

The main bedroom she’s in? It’s for us.

It’s soundproofed, like the rest of the estate.

Private. Safe.

She hasn’t opened the blackout curtains yet, but when she does—she’ll see the garden.

Another gift for her.

I planted it from seed. Every rose, every hedge, every path—I designed it for her.

Years of labor.

Proof of my devotion.

There’s a miniature maze that, when in bloom— like now —is a riot of color and fresh floral scents with hidden alcoves perfect for getting lost in.

There’s a brick patio outside the French doors, with bistro tables and antique chairs I handpicked from a dealer in Milan.

A full outdoor kitchen and bar, a pool, a Jacuzzi that heats on command.

You know— the usual.

But after all that, I added the touches that matter.

The ones she would like.

An old-fashioned wooden swing, bolted to a wood trellis with climbing vines and roses near the edge of the garden.

Reading nooks nestled beneath blooming arches.

Statues she used to stop and admire when we’d pass sculpture gardens on whatever trips our families took together.

A fire pit for chilly nights with handcrafted Adirondack chairs. Perfect for when I can wrap her in a blanket and keep her warm with my hands.

Private places. Intimate corners. For us.

We’ll explore them together.

Just not yet .

Right now, I’m content to watch.

She’s fire and vinegar when she’s pissed off, and I love her in a temper.

Leanna’s back to pacing again, throwing daggers at the walls with her eyes like she can will them to fall.

Goddamn, she’s stunning when she fights.

And later?

When that fire turns to need?

When she’s writhing beneath me, sobbing my name, claiming me with every kiss?

She’ll be even more beautiful then.

And I’ll finally give her everything.

She doesn’t know it yet, but she was made for this.

For me. For this life. For the us I’ve built behind the scenes, brick by brick, file by file, until I knew every detail.

She’s only twenty-four, and part of me thinks I might be a monster for taking her.

But I ignore that negative commentary.

If I am a monster?

Then, I’m her monster .

And she is mine .

Still untouched. Pure.

And don’t think for a second that’s an accident.

I made fucking sure of it.

Every guy who got too close? Gone.

Quietly. Discreetly.

She never noticed. Never had to.

I left her a clean slate.

Because when I touch her for the first time, I want it to mean something.

I want to carve my name into her soul.

I want her to feel who she belongs to.

Me.

My phone buzzes.

I glance down, annoyed at the interruption.

Sammy Ramirez.

Of course.

He’s the only one who’d dare. My best friend, if I could claim such a thing.

Trusted, mostly.

And not stupid.

He knows who I’ve taken.

She’s his fucking cousin,

And he knows what this means.

I glance down at the text message and grit my teeth.

Sammy

You know what you’re doing?

That’s all the text says.

Short. Cryptic. A warning in five words.

Because Adrik Volkov has a reputation.

Because Volkov blood doesn’t take disrespect lightly.

But I don’t even hesitate as I type back.

Nico Jr.

Yeah, I’m taking what’s mine. Same as you.

I say, unnecessarily reminding him of how he married my cousin, Aella, on the sly, away from family and friends.

We’re two peas in a pod, Sammy and me. At least, in our obsessive natures when it comes to the women we love.

I drop the phone on the desk and turn back to the screen.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed now, her head in her hands.

And for a second, I swear I see it—that flicker of vulnerability.

That crack in her armor.

She’ll try to resist. Of course, she will.

But not forever .

Because I’ve already done the hard part.

I found her.

Claimed her.

Built her a kingdom.

All that’s left now is to teach her how to rule it— with me .