Page 36

YULIAN

It happened again.

No— I let it happen again. I could have walked out of that bathroom any time, but I didn’t.

Instead, one look at Mia’s naked body was enough to break all the promises I’d made to myself: keep her far, keep myself cold, keep us on the right side of the line.

But what line is left now?

I can’t help it. Apparently, neither can she. Whatever this chemistry between us is, it’s clear we can’t control it.

I’ve never had that problem before.

At my side, Mia stands perfectly composed, as if we hadn’t been about to fuck like animals just fifteen minutes ago. There’s a slight flush on her cheeks that could be makeup, but I know for a fact isn’t.

It’s a last, lingering trace of everything we did upstairs.

Everything we almost did.

Everything we’ll do once I wrap this stupid party up.

I didn’t even want to throw it. Parties, events, galas—I hate them with every fiber of my being. They’re a well-dressed circus, a show we put on to pretend our money makes us better than everybody else.

But true success isn’t about making money. Money is just what happens when you claw your way to the top. If you’re strong enough to get there, the world is your oyster.

That’s what tonight is all about for me: securing the world, one deal at a time.

And to make deals, you need to showcase what you’re offering.

“So, this party…” Mia licks her lips, uncertain, her stare fixed on the closing elevator doors. “Is it, like, a company party, or…?”

“There are no company parties at StarTech.”

She huffs a laugh, rolls her pretty blue eyes. “Of course not. That would imply fun.”

“Are you complaining about lack of ‘fun’ in your position?”

“No.” Her gaze flicks to me, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. “You’re a lot of things, Mr. Lozhkin, but you’re not boring.”

The elevator doors slide open. Reluctantly, I pry my hand off Mia’s ass and slip it into my pocket.

Showtime.

“Wow,” Mia exhales. “This is…”

I follow her stunned stare to the display of opulence before us: waiters flitting around with trays of tarts and flutes, dripping crystal chandeliers on the ceiling, a champagne tower in the middle of the room.

“Adequate,” I decide.

“That’s it?” she scoffs, laughing in disbelief. “Just ‘adequate’?”

“My staff did their job. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Gee. I’d hate to be getting performance reviews from you.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” My voice drops to a whisper. “So far, your ‘performance’ has been… more than adequate.”

Her eyes go dark. “Maybe I’ll up my game, then. Shoot for better scores.”

Blyat’. If this goes on, we won’t make it five minutes into this godforsaken party. I’ll end up dragging her into a supply closet and fucking the life out of her before I’ve shaken a single hand.

“Mr. Lozhkin!” A familiar voice interrupts my train of thoughts. “There you are!”

Mia tilts her head curiously at the young man who’s just bounded up to us like an excited puppy. It’s not the way most people greet me.

But then again, Tikhon isn’t most people.

“The prototype for the ingestible GPS is ready!” he chirps excitedly, his tunnel vision blocking Mia from sight entirely.

With anybody else, I would take offense, but I’ve known Tikhon long enough to understand his brain only has one concern: his dear prototypes.

“Our trials have improved significantly, and almost no one is getting diarrhea from it anymore—well, there’s Bob, but you know Bob, always keeping his mayo out of the fridge—so I’ve been thinking we can hand it over to packaging in time for Christmas.

Keep your pets safe, your kids safe, and find out if your husband’s double-dipping.

How’s that for a slogan? Oh, oh! We should get billboards for this one!

Like that one we did in Times Square? Or maybe?—”

He doesn’t take a breath the whole way through. That, too, is expected.

“Mia,” I cut in, “this is Tikhon Baranov, lead engineer of StarTech. Tikhon, this is Mia Winters. My fiancée.”

Tikhon’s gaze finally zeroes in on Mia. “Hello!” He beams, lighting up. “So nice to meet you! You know, when I first heard the rumors our fearless leader had gotten hitched, I couldn’t believe it, but now, I totally can!”

“Uhh… thanks?” Mia says, watching her hand being shaken up and down like a ragdoll. “That’s, um, very kind of you.”

“Have you seen the prototypes yet?” Tikhon continues, eyes shining behind his thick glasses. “Come! I’ll take you for a tour of the hall.”

Mia throws me a quick glance, seeking permission. I grant it with a nod.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t let anyone take her from my side, but there’s far too much heat between us tonight.

Better let it cool down a bit.

“Separated from your princess?” Maksim smirks, appearing at my side with a glass of champagne.

“She wanted to see the prototypes.”

“More like Tikhon wanted her to see his tech babies. If you’re not careful, he’ll steal her away for the rest of the night.”

“I’m sure his husband will catch up at some point.”

Maksim barks out a laugh. “Dammit. I was hoping you didn’t know that.”

“Why? Wanted to make me jealous?”

“A bit.” He snatches a tart from a passing tray and shoves it in his mouth with zero grace. “Maybe then you’d have realized you care.”

Care. That word stabs me right in the gut. “You’re wasting your time.”

“Nah, I don’t think I am.” He grabs a few more tarts and shoves them into his jacket pocket. “Kalinda is convinced you’re either going to save her or break her heart. And I know for a fact you’re not here to play white knight, so that only leaves one option.”

“I didn’t ask for your girlfriend’s opinion.”

“Hah!” he laughs again, but this time, it comes out bitter. Sad, almost. “If only I was twenty years younger. Hell, even ten.”

It’s enough to make me listen. Enough to put my anger on hold. I’ve known my second long enough to realize when he isn’t joking around anymore, and right now, that sadness feels far too real for comfort.

“Kalinda didn’t seem to mind the age gap,” I remark, studying Maksim’s reaction closely.

If he’s distracted—if he can’t be objective about our plans anymore—then I have to know now.

“Ah, she was just embarrassed.” He waves my words off. “Even if she’s got a thing for silver foxes, that’s not the kind of thing that lasts. And I’m afraid I’m not like you, Mr. Playboy. One night isn’t enough to scratch off my itches.”

Me neither.

Not anymore.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re in a pining mood.”

“What’s the use in pining for men like us?” he sighs. “Besides, Kalinda isn’t made for this life. Her soul is still pure. I’d hate to drag a good girl into a bad mess.”

The guilt stabs even harder now that Maksim isn’t trying to make me feel it. Good girl, bad mess —it’s Mia and me in a nutshell.

And I’m the one who dragged her in. I’m the one who isn’t going to let her out of it until I’ve reached my goals. The one who’s putting her in danger.

The one who doesn’t care if she gets hurt.

The wild, primal part of me howls at the thought. That part has long claimed her.

Mine, it snarls even now. Mine to use, mine to own, mine to keep.

Mine to protect.

I won’t let anything happen to her. Not because I care, but because I’m damn good at what I do. Mia is bait—that doesn’t mean she has to be there when my enemies bite. It doesn’t mean she has to be swallowed whole.

What kind of pakhan would I be if I couldn’t keep a single woman safe?

If I let my enemies take from me again?

When I snap out of my thoughts, Maksim is watching me. Closely, his eyes narrowed, like a hawk. “Whatever you’re thinking,” he says slowly, “remember the goal, Yulian. You can’t afford to split your focus. Either you’re willing to sacrifice everything, or you’ll end up with nothing.”

Maksim’s warning hits the mark. I want to snarl at him, tell him to shut the fuck up and mind his own damn business.

But for once, the words don’t come.

Because I know, deep inside, that he’s right.

“Boss!” Tikhon swoops in again, out of breath. “You won’t believe the idea Mia had!”

“It was just a thought!” Mia protests, hands up as if to fend off praise. “There’s no need to bother?—”

“Sure is!” Tikhon pulls out a tablet and shows me the specs of another prototype.

“I was working on a fitness smartwatch, but there’s already tons of those out there, so I ended up scrapping it.

But Mia pointed out that, if we could make an ingestible chip that monitors vitals, that’d be super useful in hospitals. ”

“Hospice, most likely,” she corrects. “Short-term patients are already monitored, but long-term ones?—”

“They could stay home!” Tikhon pipes up. “Be with their families! And if anything’s wrong, PING ! Signal straight to the caregiver’s phone. If we can make them accurate enough, they could even call 911 on their own.”

It’s… a surprisingly good pitch. One that could make us billions.

“Make it,” I command.

“Hell, yeah!” Tikhon moves to high-five me, then thinks better of it. He offers his hand to Mia instead. “Great knowing you, Mia. Gotta dash. Be sure to drop by!”

Once we’re alone again, Mia slumps into my shoulder. “He’s… interesting.”

“Hyperactive.” Her warmth seeps into me. I clench my fists, force myself to ignore what her proximity does to me. Even like this, she’s gasoline for my fire. “But that’s why I hired him.”

“He gets the zoomies more than Eli.” Her lips twitch with amusement, but not mockery. “I could see him doing this, when he grows up. Tinkering in a lab, making the world a better place one gadget at a time.”

“‘Gadget’?”

She cringes. It’s fucking adorable. “Blame it on the spy movies. My brain’s fried.”

“We should unfry it, then.” I hand her a champagne flute from a passing tray. The second her lips touch the glass, I regret that action. I watch her throat bob with her first sip of bubbles and my cock hardens. “Let’s go.”

Mia follows without question. Puts her arm through mine without hesitation. Like a lamb that has no idea it’s being led to slaughter.

But that’s not where I’ll lead her. I’m stronger than I was twenty years ago. Now, I can protect her.

“Well, well, well.”

Or so I tell myself.

Mia freezes. Her arm goes limp in mine.

I turn.

And there, smirking like the cat that just caught the canary, is Bradley Baldwin.