Page 43 of Twisted Fate

For the first time, a job has brought me back home.

I’ve never killed anyone in this city. I don’t know how I feel about starting now, about leaving a bloody trail that I’ll never be able to forget in a place that’s meant to be my refuge.

But of course, I don’t have any choice. And it’s not unlikely that my ultimate target, my family’s killer, is here in Miami somewhere.

That, eventually, I would have killed someone here, regardless.

Konstantin’s penthouse is in a gleaming high-rise overlooking Biscayne Bay, the kind of building where the lobby has marble floors and the elevator requires a key card for the top floors, as well as a special card for the penthouse level.

My heels click across the marble floor as I follow him to the gilded elevator, where he pushes the button and lets me step in first, following behind before sliding a sleek silver card into the appropriate slot.

Some of that tension left him, I noticed, as soon as we walked into the building. This is what feels like home to him, then. I feel a twist of guilt in my stomach that I’m likely going to end up killing him here.

But maybe it’s where he’d want to go.

The elevator smells like lemons and flowers, and it reminds me of the entryway of Kane’s mansion.

I feel an ache in my chest, a homesickness I hadn’t expected to feel.

A longing for the routine that I’m used to when I come home—stepping into the mansion where I’ve spent most of my life, breathing in that familiar scent, talking to Rosa before going upstairs and showering in my own room.

The elevator chimes, and Konstantin leads me out into a wood-floored hallway with a single door. He flashes the keycard at the door, and the lock clicks open.

“Welcome home,” he says with a smile, opening the door so I can walk in first.

I’m no stranger to beautiful homes, but his penthouse is truly breathtaking.

The first floor is open concept, with views that stretch to the horizon, situated so directly on the water that on three sides all I can see is the ocean from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

Everything is glass and steel, the furnishings white and grey with faint pops of blue here and there, and I walk slowly to one of the windows, staring out at the expanse of ocean with a faint sense of awe.

I’ve seen plenty of things in my life that have left me with this feeling.

But this feels different somehow. My chest tightens, and I hear Konstantin walking up behind me.

Home . This isn’t my home, and it never will be.

But for Konstantin’s sake, for the sake of the mission, I have to pretend like I want it to be.

Like I’m thrilled to be here, instead of feeling faintly queasy at the betrayal that seems to loom larger with every passing day.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, and I mean it. It is beautiful. A bit too minimalistic for my taste, like a high-end hotel room, but beautiful all the same, and the view is unmatched.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Konstantin’s fingers brush against the nape of my neck, sliding my hair to one side, and I shiver as my body responds instantly to his touch.

His lips brush against the spot where his fingers were a moment ago, and I have a sudden image of him pressing me up against the glass window, stripping my clothes away as he fucks me with the view of the ocean in front of us and all around us. But Konstantin has other ideas.

“I can show you upstairs,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the curve of my shoulder. “The bedroom, for instance. Or I can take you all the way up to the roof. There’s a pool up there—all ours. Private access for the penthouse only.”

The thought of everything we could do up there, under the open night sky with the ocean stretching out all around us, makes my traitorous heart beat faster in my chest. “I like the sound of the second choice,” I murmur, tilting my head back and turning to graze my mouth over his.

Konstantin’s lips curl in a smile, and he reaches for my hand, leading me toward a pair of doors that lead out to a balcony off the first floor.

From the balcony, there’s a stairway up to the roof. He lets me go first, following me all the way up—and once I’m there, my breath catches in my throat.

The view is stunning. The pool takes up a third of the rooftop, stretching out to the very edge of it, infinity-style.

The water laps darkly against the edges of the roof in the warm Miami night breeze, and I swallow hard, turning in a circle as I take it all in.

There are lounge chairs along the pool, a hot tub, a bar, a fireplace at one end with chairs surrounding it—but truly, all I can really stare at is the pool.

“I think my swimsuit is still packed,” I say softly, and Konstantin chuckles, walking up behind me. His fingers slide over my shoulders, pushing the straps of my tank top down.

“Up here,” he murmurs, “you don’t need to swim in anything at all.”

Konstantin reaches down, sliding my tank top up and off of me, leaving me bare from the waist up.

My nipples stiffen instantly despite the warmth of the night, and I feel his palms slide below my breasts to cup them, his thumbs brushing over the tight peaks as my head falls back against his shoulder.

“That’s it, volchitsa,” he murmurs, his voice rough in my ear. “This feels good, doesn’t it? Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels—” my breath catches in my throat as he pinches my nipples between his thumb and forefinger on each side, rolling them lightly until I wonder if I’m going to be able to finish the sentence.

“It feels so good. Oh god—” I suck in a breath, arching back against him, and I feel the hard, thick press of his cock against my ass.

One of his hands abandons my breast to fall to the button of my jeans. He thumbs it open without hesitation, dragging the zipper down as he pushes the denim and the panties beneath it down my hips and thighs, all the way until they fall down to pool around my feet.

“Off, Sophia,” he orders, and my stomach tightens.

I kick the jeans away, my shoes going with them, and the warm ocean breeze brushes over my skin.

I’ve never been naked outside like this before, and it feels daring, illicit—an accomplishment for someone whose job is to track down and complete contract kills.

I turn toward him, my fingers immediately going to the buttons of the thin linen shirt he’s wearing.

“Fair’s fair,” I murmur, tugging the buttons open one by one, slowly and then faster at first, until the shirt is hanging open and my hands are at the button of his pants.

I feel the hard ridge of his cock against the side of my hand, and suddenly I can’t get them off fast enough, my entire body aching for everything that I know he can give me.

The moment I shove his pants down, my hand wrapping around his hard length as it springs free, Konstantin lets out a low groan of pleasure.

His hips thrust against my hand, his fingers wrapping in my hair as he tugs my mouth up to his, his tongue tangling with mine as I stroke my fingers along his throbbing length.

And then he steps away from me, leading me toward the steps that lead down into the pool.

The cool water laps at my ankles as we walk into it, then my calves. Konstantin takes my hand, pulling me deeper, and then he turns to me, reaching up to run damp fingers through my hair as the water reaches his waist—nearly to my breasts—and he looks down at me.

“I’ve been imagining this since the first night of our honeymoon,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with need. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you went for that swim, didn’t you?”

I bite my lip, feigning innocence as I look up at him—a difficult task for me.

“Maybe,” I murmur, and Konstantin’s hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer.

My heart trips in my chest, arousal flooding me.

I love that he doesn’t handle me delicately—that whatever he feels for me, when he touches me like this, he does whatever he pleases.

“I’ve never been so fucking jealous of water.

” His other hand touches my thigh, skimming upwards.

“I wanted to touch every part of you that it did.” His fingers trail up to my hip, over the top of my thigh, dipping between my legs to graze over the smooth skin there.

I gasp at his touch, arching into it, and Konstantin chuckles darkly as his hand moves upward, over my stomach, my ribs, my breasts.

“I wanted to fuck you in that pool, under the open night sky. Out where anyone could see us, if they happened to be out and looking.”

“Do you like the idea of that?” I look up at him. “Someone watching us fuck?”

“Hell no.” His hand tightens in my hair, tipping my head back.

“You’re mine, volchitsa . I told you I’d scoop out the eyes of any man who looked at you.

But while they were looking, they’d see whose cock you’re addicted to.

Whose cock you scream for.” His hips tilt forward against mine, and I want to tell him he’s wrong.

That I could never be addicted to any part of him.

But that would be a pointless lie, and I think we both would know it.

Konstantin’s hand slides back down, trailing lazily down the flat, taut plane of my stomach before settling between my thighs again, his fingers deftly parting my folds.

With a swift movement, he impales me with two fingers, his thumb finding my clit as the fingers of his other hand press against my scalp.

“I want you to come for me, just like this, volchitsa ,” he murmurs.

“I want you to look in my eyes while you ride my fingers. And then, if you’re a good girl and let me hear how good it is for you, I’ll give you my cock.

” His fingers thrust into me, curling, sending pleasure jolting through my body as he rolls his thumb over my clit.

“You have to earn this cock, dorogoy . Show me how badly you want it.”