Page 25

"Da, I handle it later," I said, taking a brief sip of the hot coffee rich with flavor.

"Okay, I'll send over details," Nikolai said, earning a hum of acknowledgment from me before ending the call.

As Nikolai just specified—a real estate broker mentioned speaking to me about a new investment, so I suppose I'll finish up at this café quicker than normal.

I had been spending huge chunks of my days in this café.

It felt satisfying and distracting enough to prevent me from reaching back out to Sevan.

Who still hasn't reached back out first.

It irritated me at first.

I mean, I particularly don't care if she has business—I should drive her so insane she needs to text me just to get me out of her head.

But no.

It's been close to two weeks and we have yet to talk since that one night I gave in first.

Me.

Giving in first.

Never again.

So I've been radio silent these past couple of weeks, handling business and refusing to even check my phone or even contemplate texting first.

I let out a content sigh as I swallowed yet another sip of the coffee, staring out of the window at the busy streets of Moscow.

Which is where I focused my attention, watching as people mindlessly passed by to their destinations.

It was easy to get lost in, especially as I took one of my normal Xanax's and sipped my coffee.

I willingly let a couple of hours pass, contemplating how I reached the point of hiding out in a café just to avoid my own thoughts or temptations.

And it's all her fault.

I let out a tight sigh, suddenly sliding out of my cushioned booth to head outside where I knew the cold air would nip at my face.

My driver immediately stepped out of the car at my presence, opening the back door for me so I could slide into the warm car and get comfortable.

The next few hours of my day consisted of a meeting with a real estate broker, lunch with a few syndicate leaders to discuss moving product, and then handling loose ends.

My favorite.

I came home clean of any blood since I opted for a more cleaner way of killing them.

But I still felt sort of content.

Until I got to my room and immediately glanced over to my bed.

Which led me down a rabbit hole of flashbacks.

Specifically, that night I spent on the phone with her just a couple of weeks ago.

Before I could think it through, I was showering and getting ready for god knows what.

I just couldn't be at this fucking compound right now.

So for once... I went out.

To a club—where it's tightly packed with crowds of people, listening to music that gives you a headache and drinking so it all feels fucking fun.

But it was better than the quietness of my room for once—which I always preferred over this scene.

Just not tonight.

"Vodka," Nikolai called out over the music as he handed me and Ivan our drinks before sitting down with me.

I rolled back my shoulders as soon as I took a sip of my drink, allowing the burning liquid to run down my throat.

"You want hook-up tonight?" Nikolai leaned in to ask me, "We help you search crowd."

I shook my head immediately.

Which alarmed me.

I feel too obedient listening to Sevan these past two weeks for fucking once.

We only hook up.

Why can't I hook up with other women in the process?

Sevan's out of town anyway.

And she's being very selfish, keeping me away from all these women.

"Da, we find a suitable hook-up tonight," I suddenly said before I could think it through, taking an even longer sip of the burning vodka.

Nikolai stood up, "We go do a quick walkthrough," he said, motioning Ivan up as they both walked away.

I nodded in response as I relaxed against the couch, immediately glancing over to the doors when I noticed a group of men in black guarding someone.

But it wasn't her.

I could tell by how poorly the men were dressed.

It was Nerissa instead.

We locked eyes immediately, which naturally made Nerissa quickly look away.

Yet she still had the nerve to walk over to me, leaving her men with mine at the edge of my section.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Nerissa said as she grabbed her lighter and pack of cigarettes from her coat.

I lazily raised my brows, "Da," I said, for once not in the mood to go back and forth with her.

"Well, at the club and also without Cortez," Nerissa subtly added as she grabbed a cigarette from the pack.

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Insinuating something?" I purposely asked, now suddenly in the mood to go back and forth.

Especially with her throwing assumptions out like her own battle armor.

"There is nothing to insinuate," Nerissa said as she slid her pack of cigarettes back into her coat pocket, "Cortez took a liking to you, da?"

I felt my jaw unconsciously tighten at her words, "Jealous I get better shipment from her?" I purposely said, subtly shutting down her claims without arguing her point.

Or else it would make me look guilty of something.

"Just shipment?" Nerissa emphasized, glancing up from her cigarette that she was lighting.

And met my fucking eyes.

The audacity?

I stood from the couch before I could think it through—throwing my glass directly at her face.

Which she barely dodged, causing the glass to shatter against the dark floor behind her.

I grabbed her coat collar in response, tugging her over the table and forcing her cigarette to fall from between her lips—grunting as she dropped her lighter with a clatter shielded by the music.

"Koslov," Nerrisa said, giving in immediately.

But it was too late.

I'm already angry.

And she's fucked up my night.

It's only fair I fuck up her face in response.

I held my free hand up as soon as her men had the nerve to take a step forward.

And at the warning from my men, hers stood down as I gripped Nerissa tighter by her collar.

Her face hovered over the glass table.

Until I tugged it down, bending down to smash her face against the smooth surface.

That quickly cracked under the pressure and earned the most pathetic wail from her.

But I wasn't satisfied, so I let go of her—causing her to stumble down onto the messy floor of glass and various bottles.

I kicked her once.

Then, I kicked her again.

And then—

Nikolai and Ivan had returned past the masses of people who were currently backing away from my section.

They both looked confused.

I didn't care.

I kicked her again.

And the best part about this was that I knew Nerissa could fight.

Very good too.

But she chose not to.

She knew the repercussions with me were worse.

She'll get in her car one day and it'll magically blow up.

"You speak with arrogance," I said, kicking her directly in her stomach as she tried to crawl onto her feet, "And you meet my eye."

Nerissa grunted as soon as I kicked her again, holding her hands up for me to stop.

"Try it again and I will kill you, Nerissa," I said, eyeing her as she wiped her hands across her face smeared with blood, some parts more swollen than others.

I waited by her until she nodded once, coughing up blood as she began nodding almost repetitively so I would leave.

And at her acknowledgment, I backed away from her, and yet another section I had fucked up because of her presence alone.

Nikolai and Ivan flocked to my side as soon as I stepped over the glass, guiding me past the velvet ropes and through the crowd with my men following closely by me.

The car waiting outside was warm compared to the chilly air dancing with flurries.

A woman also sat in the backseat waiting for me.

She had a darker complexion with her curls pulled up into a bun and baby hairs framing her face.

She was very beautiful—glowing almost.

"Koslov I presume?" the woman spoke first, her English accent coming through very strong.

I nodded once, grabbing the cigar waiting in the cupholder for me, "Your name," I said as I grabbed the gold lighter, positioning the cigar between my glossed lips.

Which the woman openly glanced down to.

"Laila," she said, watching as I lit my cigar and tossed the lighter into the cupholder.

"Laila," I murmured her name, letting out a long exhale of smoke.

Laila hummed in response, leaning into me with parted lips—and she didn't even have to ask.

I brought the cigar to her lips immediately, watching as she took a long inhale before letting the smoke out.

I stiffened as soon as she positioned her body against mine, settling into the side of my body as the car slowly rolled forward and followed the line of SUVs.

"Your accent," I pointed out bluntly, taking a long drag of the cigar.

Laila hummed, "I'm from London—here on business," she explained, turning her head to watch me exhale the smoke.

I brought the cigar back down to her lips, allowing her another hit, "This is business to you, Laila?" I purposely asked her, eyeing her sharp face.

She only smirked in response, pulling back from the cigar, "Only the best darling," she whispered, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

I hummed in approval, "I agree," I mumbled as I brought the cigar back to my lips.

"You're very attractive, you know," Laila said as I inhaled deeper this time.

Until I lowered the cigar from my lips, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, "I know," I sighed, not even bothering to pretend otherwise.

"And that's what makes you even sexier," Laila said, parting her lips when I lowered the cigar back down to them.

"Da," I mumbled, watching as she inhaled another hit.

"And that accent of yours," Laila added, exhaling more smoke.

I nodded in response, but I didn't bother complimenting her accent back.

Not when a certain Spanish one sounded better.

Much much better.

But she's not here right now, so I have Laila.

Even if a weird feeling settled in my lower stomach.

It made me feel fucking nauseous, but that might've just been the cigar.

Or maybe I need to eat.

But it wasn't just nausea—there were these knots that tied in my stomach too.

I felt so fucking anxious.

And really fucking stiff with Laila leaning into my side.

At some point, I mentally checked out—allowing Laila to talk about whatever as I hummed in response, finishing smoking my cigar.

Until we made it to my compound.

Quicker than I preferred if I'm honest.

Laila was in visible awe, eyeing the estate as we stepped out of the car.

She was eager—more eager than me as we ascended the stairs to the double doors.

Which immediately fell open at my presence.

"What is it you do for work again?" Laila subtly whispered to me as we walked into the cold house.

My men were already waiting for me by the stairs—

Holding a gift bag in hand and... flowers?

Pink roses to be exact.

The largest of bouquets.

"For you Koslov," my men immediately approached me with the bouquet.

And instead of handing me the heavy flowers, he leaned it down so I could grab the card.

But I already knew who this all was from.

I opened it anyway.

Beautiful women need attention. You always have my attention.

-S

I clenched my jaw as I reread the words on the paper.

Until I drew in a deep breath, calmly closing the card shut.

"Is everything alright darling?" Laila asked, sensing my sudden irritation that everyone occupying this fucking room could feel oozing off of me.

I nodded once, "Da," I mumbled, letting out a deep sigh as I tucked the card back into the flowers, "But you need to leave—I have my driver take you back."

Laila furrowed her brows, "Oh um... okay?" she hesitantly said, stumbling over her own words, "Was it something I did?"

I shook my head, "You are beautiful milaya," I assured her, now walking toward the stairs, "I'm just not in a very mood tonight," I added.

"Okay, I can give you my number if you ever want—"

"Leave it with my men," I cut her short, making it to the top of the stairs where I turned around to eye the two men holding the flowers and gift bag, "Bring it upstairs," I commanded them.

And they immediately started walking up the stairs, nearly speed-walking to catch up to me while the others escorted Laila outside.

Once we reached my room, I instructed them to set the gifts on my dresser—motioning them back out so I could be alone.

And I swear once that door was shut, I was nearly tearing the gift bag open.

It was the lightest shade of pink with the words Agent Provocateur written in black cursive.

The gift bag was tied together with a silky black ribbon.

Which was untied with ease by my fingers, grabbing the gift box inside which I impatiently pulled open.

But only to lay eyes on the smooth emerald lace waiting for me.

I clenched my jaw yet again, fighting back my smile even in private.

But fuck did I actually like it.

And maybe it mattered that she picked it out.

That she envisioned me in this—and even took the time to have it sent to me.

Now she gets to take it off me.

"Skoro," I murmured the word soon in Russian.

Very soon.