Page 44 of Konstantin

“We have a very busy day ahead.” A stronghand lands on my thigh, like he doesn’t need permission to touch me.

If he was anyone else, I’d have broken his hand by now.

When I glance over, I instantly regret it. His navy suit molds to his body like a second skin, stretching over hard biceps and a broad chest I have no business thinking about. One of those arms could easily pin me down while he…

I shift in my seat, crossing my legs and squeezing. He catches the movement, his eyes gleaming. God help me, it only makes me hotter, and all I feel now is the shame that comes after I get these thoughts about the last man I should ever want.

“I left a list on your desk last night,” he goes on. “I expect it to be completed before the end of the day.”

“Won’t be a problem, sir.” I let my mouth curve into a faint smile just to needle him.

His nostrils flare, and his gaze drops to my lips without even trying to hide it. I shift again, desperate to relieve the ache blooming low and deep in my core.

In the next second, his arm slides around my waist, dragging me further into him with startling force. I’m flush against his side, the heat of his body searing straight through my dress. His hand cups my jaw, thumb grazing the corner of my mouth.

“Does your rule about no kissing still stand, or will you finally let me taste you?” he murmurs, rough enough to sandpaper my willpower away.

I blink up at him, the memory of what I told him slicing through my haze of desperation.

No kissing. Kissing is too intimate. Too dangerous. Kissing is for people who mean something.

Konstantin means nothing.

“It stands,” I whisper, but it sounds like a lie even to myself.

“Ty ubivayesh menya.” He fists my hair with a growl, a low and primal sound rumbling straight through my limbs.

My thighs press tighter, but it’s useless. I’m already burning for him.

I tell myself it’s the lack of sex. The adrenaline. The deceit. But deep down, I know the truth.

It’s him. Konstantin Marinov is a living, breathing addiction.

And the worst part? He knows it too.

The soft clack of keys fills the silence of Konstantin’s office as I work through the latest task he texted me: compiling an updated list of hotel acquisitions and sending it to some offshore account managers for review. Easy enough…especially considering the span of his empire.

Casinos. Hotels. Investment portfolios sprawling across half the damn world. All tied together neatly under the pristine name Marinov Global Holdings.

If only people knew what kind of bloodstained hands held the reins. The monster beneath the suit. The one who smiles in one breath and stabs you through the heart with the next.

As I focus on the screen, movement outside the glass catches my eye. Three men pass by, walking in a tight formation like a pack of wolves.

And I know immediately who they are: Aleksei, Kirill, and Anton. Konstantin’s brothers. They’re unmistakable. Tall, sharp-eyed, all of them carrying the same dark, dangerous air Konstantin wears like a tailored suit.

Their eyes zero in on me, like they’ve found their next target. Aleksei’s eyes narrow as he jerks his chin toward the door, signaling for his brothers to follow him.

They have no idea I know just as much about them as I do about their older brother.

Like the way Aleksei murdered a rival gang member only to get away with it.

Or the way Kirill tucks in his nine-year-old son, Lev, with the same hands he uses to murder a home full of people. The child whose mother left him when he was two after he was diagnosed with autism. But some people aren’t meant to be parents. I know that well.

Anton, though? When you stare into his brown eyes long enough, it’s like there’s no soul within them. Like it’s been drained out of him, or maybe he was born without one.

Maybe they all were.

All I know is, if they ever find out, any one of them wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through my head.