Page 12

I spent that entire weekend gathering information on Sevan from my team.

Where she travels, where she had planned to go.

Columbia for business?

Of course, I send my men on next flight over.

Then I would know if she's up to anything I specifically told her not to do.

I feel like she's driven me insane—something I know she wanted to do.

Now I know certain details about her that I would rather rid my head of.

Born in Columbia, where she took over her father's mafia before being chosen to rule the criminal underworld.

She travels often, but her roots, her base... always Columbia.

I find out she has a house there, too.

A house she took some woman to.

And she's not random for Sevan.

They have history—specifically speaking, they fuck often when she's in Columbia.

Sevan... enjoys sleeping with her?

This I do not like.

I do not like when she does something after I said no.

So I did what anyone in my position would do.

I had a private jet ready and flew out of Russia the moment I learned about Sevan... and this Lucia.

Fourteen hours and twenty-six minutes I spent thinking about Sevan with her.

The pictures... they leave much to the imagination, but Sevan's arm around her waist, the way she looked at Lucia—this is a problem.

Lucia is a problem.

Especially when I finally landed and heard the news of them being back at Lucia's hotel a second night after the one they spent at Sevan's house.

The air was annoyingly warm and humid—forcing me to go without my fur coat for once.

Which left me in my mini black skirt, tucking my black button down under my bra so I could expose more skin.

It's too fucking warm—even at night.

How anyone lives in this heat, I'll never understand.

I shook my head as I sat in the chauffeured car that had the air conditioning blasting.

The city of Bogotà was busy for a Tuesday night, which left us in stand-still traffic for over thirty minutes.

It was a never-ending torture of stop-and-go traffic on the way from the tarmac.

I could feel my patience—what little I have—running thin.

By the time we made it to the hotel, I was a ticking time bomb as I rode the elevator up to the specific room.

One that Sevan paid for her.

I slid the heavy silencer from my back waistband, approaching the hotel door.

Which I had gotten the key for.

Or I had one of my men pretend to be getting it for Sevan.

It really didn't take much for the staff to believe them.

I hovered the key card over the lock—and as soon as it dinged, I pushed the unlocked door open, not wasting any time as I entered the room.

Sevan's dark eyes were on me immediately.

But mine were on Lucia.

Naked.

Straddling Sevan.

I watched Lucia scramble, pulling the covers over her body, but not before I see her fingers... where they've been.

Or how they had slipped away from Sevan's basketball shorts where she had previously been touching a place I had previously been.

And declared no one else will be.

"Zinovia—"

Sevan was cut short by Lucia's gasp, noticing the gun I subtly revealed from behind my back.

I smiled slightly when Sevan sharply leaned up from the bed—shielding Lucia's body as if it could stop me.

"I swear to fucking god, Zinovia," Sevan said, knowing exactly what I'm capable of.

I tilted my head innocently, "I told you no," I said, raising the gun to aim at the random woman's head.

Which made Lucia's dark eyes widen in horror, shifting to lean down closer to Sevan.

But I had already pulled the trigger.

I've never been one for talking it out.

Sevan drew in a visibly irritated breath as Lucia's blood splattered across her face, watching as her limp body slumped against her.

"Lesson learned," I sighed contently, watching as Sevan pushed her limp body aside and climbed out of the bed in nothing but black basketball shorts and a sports bra.

Which undeniably made my eyes shift down to her chiseled ABs, taking in her sharp v-line that her shorts sat dangerously low on.

More of the sparse dark tattoos spanned her toned stomach—something I unconsciously took in openly.

Until Sevan firmly grabbed the front of my throat, knocking the wind out of me as she pressed me to the nearest wall.

"You don't make the fucking rules here," Sevan said, her usually calm tone bordering on irritated with me.

I dropped the gun in my hand, purposely running my hands up her stomach, outlining each muscle there.

"I just did," I whispered, tilting my head further back as her hand closed in firmly around my neck.

But instead of trying to pull away, I let her choke me.

Which irritated Sevan, to say the least.

"You know the rules then," Sevan said, her tone so much calmer than before that it sent shivers down my spine, "I get even."

I hummed tightly, ignoring her tight grip around my neck, "She was... fuck buddy—no one important,"I said, practically adding fire to her fuel.

"So then your childhood best friend in Paris... she's no one important either?" Sevan purposely asked me, ripping my calmness away from me.

I hit her stomach to let me go, "You don't touch her," I gritted, now kicking my foot at her legs.

"Oh but now I do—she's fair game," Sevan said, tugging me away from the wall.

Which inevitably earned a grunt from me, scratching my nails down her stomach.

"You touch her and—"

"I have a fucking mess to clean up thanks to you," Sevan said as she backed me toward the door, "So I don't have time to argue about unnecessary shit."

I pushed my heels against the floor hoping to stop us, but with Sevan's tight grip—it only made me stumble over my own feet.

"Sevan, you touch her and I kill you," I said, suddenly reconsidering the part I played in this.

Technically, Klara would be fair game if Sevan wanted her to be.

But in a game she started.

And I will finish.

"I'll handle you later," Sevan said as she opened the hotel door—

And full-on pushed me out, letting go of my neck as I stumbled back gasping for air.

But I refused to leave—instead, I banged on the door, tugging at the electronic door knob with all my strength.

At least until Sevan's security approached me and forced me away.

I successfully took out two of the men though.

But the other two managed to restrain my arms behind my back and drag me away to the elevator.

Which I stood reluctantly in as it lowered down to the bottom floor.

Where my men awaited me.

But they didn't interfere with Sevan's security—walking close behind me as they escorted me outside to the running SUV.

And then later stood by the doors to prevent me from going back in.

"Blyat," I muttered under my breath as I adjusted my short skirt with an irritated sigh, sitting in the backseat of the chauffeured SUV.

She wants to get even?

Fine, we can both get even for a challenge she started then.

"We leave," I told my driver, now wanting to leave the hotel.

???????

I stayed in Columbia that night.

Only in a different hotel.

The Four Seasons.

I ate a proper meal and took my typical Xanax before I went to sleep that night.

The next irritatingly bright morning was slow.

I took my time waking up and eating breakfast.

Mostly because my plans for the day weren't until the evening.

Where I would pop in on a certain person.

It was the perfect way to get even—and something I thought about throughout the day.

During my time at the spa or while smoking one of my usual cigars off on the balcony as I sipped vodka that tasted like burning water.

Until eventually, it was time to get ready.

Considering, the irritatingly warm weather, I settled on a pair of loose low-rise jeans and a tank top that clung to my body—wearing my long hair down with minimal makeup.

The sun was setting off in the distance as I exited my hotel, escorted out to the private SUV waiting for me.

Zafiro was as busy as I expected it to be at sunset where there was a dinner rush.

The polished ambiance of the restaurant reminded me of Moscow's finest—cold, expensive, and soulless.

There were also these gold and deep blue accents with dimly lit lights—the perfect chance to get away with my plan.

"Koslov," his familiar voice spoke first as I approached his table.

I nodded my head once, "Dario," I said, sitting down as he sipped on his drink.

Sevan wants to mess with Klara off in Paris?

I'll mess with her right-hand man then.

"You're in Bogotà for a meeting with Sev?" Dario asked, setting his drink down.

I tilted my head—but I didn't show my confusion.

Sevan has to have it all under wraps if Dario, her right hand and closest ally, doesn't know what happened yesterday.

Specifically, that I killed her long-time hookup.

"Yes, a meeting," I sighed, leaning back in the booth as I watched the waiter approach us with another drink for Dario—taking his empty glass for him.

"So you like Colombia then?" Dario asked as he now sipped on the new drink, nodding at the waiter in silent gratitude, "Considering you're still here and all," he added, glancing over to my phone that buzzed on the table.

With a call from an unmarked number.

Her unmarked number.

I let it ring through.

Until I decided to put my phone on do not disturb while Dario continued sipping his drink.

"I have some loose ends to tie up before I leave," I murmured, glancing away from my phone to the glass he brought to his lips for another sip.

Dario's brows subtly knitted together as he swallowed slightly, "I assume it involves me?" he asked, setting his half-empty glass down.

I shrugged, "No need to do anything," I said, letting out a deep sigh as I rolled my shoulders back, "It's done now."

Dario's confusion visibly grew.

Until he suddenly glanced down at his half-empty glass, piecing together what I had insinuated.

And did.

"Eres una perra," Dario mumbled under his breath, which was a sentence that I didn't bother to comprehend.

Not as I watched his breathing grow more visible.

Or his tan face burning with redness.

He suddenly reached for me as he scratched at his throat—but I only stood up entirely unfazed, grabbing my phone and sliding out of the booth as he began suffocating to death.

The back corner booth remained surrounded by my men as I exited the restaurant, letting them handle the rest discreetly so I could use this as a surprise factor.

I think I want to send his head directly to Sevan's doorstep.

But that's something I'll think about during the plane ride back to Moscow.

The loose end is tied up now and that's all that matters.

"We stay here for a moment," I told my driver as I unlocked my phone, settling back in my seat as I scrolled through almost twenty missed calls from the same number.

I let out a content sigh, deciding to click on one of the missed calls and call her back.

It was silent for a moment—all I could hear was the line that rang four times to be exact.

Until the line finally clicked.

"Zinovia," her familiar voice flooded into my ear.

I grabbed the bottle of vodka waiting in the cupholder for me, "Hi malyshka," I murmured the Russian pet name for baby.

Purposely.

Mostly, because I wanted to make her mad.

She sounds too calm right now for my liking.

"Baby?" Sevan repeated the pet name back to me in English—the word sounding unintentionally sexy given her raspy voice, "Do you call everyone baby, Zinvoia?"

I hummed as I poured myself a glass of authentic vodka, "I say no if it gets me between your legs," I said, setting the bottle of vodka back in the cupholder.

"You're in a good mood," Sevan determined, realizing I wasn't nearly as mad as yesterday, which we both know is a red flag, "What did you do?"

My lips twitched up slightly in amusement at her correct assumptions.

I don't think she's caught on to what I've done yet.

And she won't until I want her to know.

Dario will be missing for a couple of days until I decide to make my next move.

"I'm outside your hotel with your suitcases packed in the car," Sevan spoke again, leaving the previous topic alone, "I want you back here—we'll talk on the way to the tarmac."

I swallowed the sip of burning vodka I had previously taken, "Ask nicely—that's what you tell me da?" I said, my tone softened and in nothing but a condescending whisper.

"And you tell me nyet every time," Sevan said, not bothering to give in to my demands, "I'll see you soon, Zinovia."

I rolled my eyes as soon as she ended the call, dropping my phone in the leather seat beside me as I told my driver to head back over to the hotel.

Which was only a few minutes away from the restaurant where I had just killed her right-hand man.

Something I analyzed the entire way over.

What else would she want to talk about if she doesn't already know?

But I purposely kept this ordeal with Dario hushed because I like surprising Sevan with unhinged gifts.

Especially when she goes against my own word.

Let's hope she's learned this little lesson and we can both move on.

There's nothing I hate more than resisting sex.

And that's all I want to do in the backseat of that car with her—rather than do something as silly as talking.

I'll make it my mission to find a way between her legs before we get to that tarmac.