Chapter 36
Kolya
My body tightens with need as I drink in Chloe, magnificent in her pure, primal fury.
This woman always existed beneath the sunshine and glitter, but now she’s no longer hiding the survivor I glimpsed from the very start. Her blazing eyes transform her as she brings the poker down again, smashing the world into even tinier pieces.
Whatever happens next, there’s no going back.
Her next blow strikes with a strange thunk that’s wrong, too heavy for hollow wood. A solid block of multi-colored resin, about the size of a small melon, flies from the ruins and crashes to the floor.
The oxygen leeches from my lungs. “Is that…?”
Suspended inside the melon, like insects trapped in an amber stone, are hundreds of diamonds. Glittering, perfect, and completely immobilized.
Delicate cracks spiderweb across the resin’s surface, threatening the integrity of the structure.
So not a very strong resin.
Or one meant to break.
A few diamonds broke free and skittered across the floor like dice thrown by a nervous gambler. They gleam in the dim light, throwing prisms on the walls.
For a heartbeat, we just stare.
Twenty million dollars, sparkling within a pretty prison on top of Chloe’s area rug.
The object of Roman’s obsession. The reason for the chaos on the island. The reason Chloe’s life was destroyed. The trigger for us finding each other.
Chloe reacts first.
The poker descends again with renewed fury, only this time, her target isn’t the globe but the resin block. The impact fractures the compound.
She swings again. “Fuck. You!” Again. “Fuck. Every. One. Of. You. Fucking. Fuckers!”
Each word is punctuated by the crash of metal against resin.
Awe burns my throat as I watch the real Chloe break free of the remaining chains binding her to her rainbow facade. With one last, decisive blow, the resin block shatters. Diamonds explode outward in a violent birth.
Chloe pants over the sparkling mess, still white-knuckling the fire poker.
Mission accomplished.
Finally, the tool lands on the rug with a dull thud. Her shoulders slump with release as the righteous fury that propelled her flames out.
She bends over and picks up a shard. “This one isn’t a diamond.”
Frowning, I sweep a handful of the real stones into my palm. “No. That’s resin.” I examine the fractured pieces. “A good smuggling technique. Makes everything silent. Solid.”
“I don’t even want to know how you know that.”
Our eyes meet over the scattered fortune between us. A question lurks in her gaze, one I can’t answer yet. Now that we triggered the alarm, a different world—my world—presses in on us. Someone knows we’ve found the diamonds.
We’ve got to move.
“We need to grab this shit and get out of here.” The enforcer in me takes command, pushing the lover aside.
I whip out my phone and call Kirill. “Found them. Chloe’s house. Back entrance.”
“Coming.” The line goes dead.
I tuck the phone away. “They’ll be here in three minutes. Maybe less.”
Chloe nods, no questions asked.
Just like that, we’re a team.
Ignoring my injuries, I drop to my knees and begin scooping diamonds into piles. Chloe grabs a tote bag from a hook by the door—an absurdly bright yellow one with a sunflower pattern—and joins me on the floor.
We work in frantic, efficient silence, sweeping handfuls of valuable stones and sharp resin shards into the bag. Her fingers move with the same precision she probably uses to sort crayons and alphabet blocks, gathering up more money in diamonds than most people can even fathom.
Every stone we collect is a victory. Every second we linger is a risk.
My mind catalogues the threats. Whoever set the alarm knows we discovered the diamonds. Neighbors might’ve heard Chloe’s fury raining down all over that globe, too, so the police could arrive at any minute to investigate. Falcone men could still be on the lookout.
The clock is ticking.
As we work, my gaze keeps returning to Chloe.
There’s a focus to her now, a purpose that has nothing to do with forced cheerfulness and everything to do with survival.
Blood smears her palms where she’s cut herself on the resin—we both have—but she doesn’t complain.
Just continues gathering diamonds like they’re pebbles on a beach.
Eventually, the last diamond goes into the bag. It’s heavy now, the weight of twenty million dollars pulling at the canvas fabric. I take it from her, my free hand grasping for one of hers so I can examine the cuts on her palm.
“It’s nothing.” She pulls away. “Just a few scratches.”
Before I can respond, the back door swings open. I pivot, placing my body instantly between Chloe and the entrance while I reach for my weapon.
Kirill enters, followed closely by Max and Vanya. They stride in with the meticulous coordination of men who’ve worked together for years, checking the room for threats before their attention settles on us.
In any other situation, their expressions as they absorb the scene would be comical. The wrecked living room, Chloe in clothes from Vanya, the weirdly lumpy sunflower tote bag.
Max lifts a brow. “Holy shit, dude. You figured it out.”
“She busted it open with the fire poker.” I point to Chloe, giving credit where credit is due.
He studies her and almost smiles. It’s the closest thing to approval I’ve ever seen from him. “Let’s go.”
Vanya, never one to be outdone, offers Chloe a bow with a wild flourish. “Nicely done, darling. If kindergarten ever loses its charm, I think you’ve found your calling in demolition.”
Chloe inspects the destruction she wrought. “This was fun, but I’d prefer to keep my day job. Cleaning a classroom decimated by five-year-olds in the blink of an eye is enough excitement for me.”
Kirill says nothing as he surveys everything. The destroyed globe, the tote bag, the blood on Chloe’s hands.
“The alarm will have notified someone.” I’m already rushing toward the door. “We have to leave. Now.”
Vanya nods toward the window. “Car’s waiting. Alexei’s on standby. Roman’s expecting us.”
The blood whooshes in my ears.
Roman.
The mission is complete. I obtained the diamonds.
When I glance at Chloe, I can’t quite read her expression. Twenty million reasons exist to walk away, to return to my life, and forget all about the kindergarten teacher with the unexpected steel spine.
My heart rejects that idea with a painful clench.
I don’t want to revert to the cold, efficient killer who only knows targets and obstacles. No people. No Chloe.
What I want stands right in front of me with cuts on her palm and defiance in her eyes.
“I need to change.” She gestures at the bloodstains on her borrowed clothes. “One minute, gents.”
Before anyone can object, she disappears down the hall toward her bedroom. Kirill emits a frustrated grumble.
I silence him with a single glare.
The weight of the diamonds in the tote bag tugs at my arm like an anchor. I’ve got what Roman sent me for.
My mission’s complete, but the true treasure is Chloe.
She reappears in less than two minutes, dressed in her own clothes. Jeans, a soft gray sweater, and practical boots. With her hair pulled back and her face scrubbed clean, she looks like herself again, only sharper around the edges.
Real.
Our eyes meet from across the wrecked living room. The question hangs between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore.
What now?
The others have already started heading toward the kitchen. Vanya takes point, and Max brings up the rear while Kirill scans the street through the window.
Professional. Efficient. Ready to complete the extraction.
But I don’t move. Can’t. Not until I know.
I hold out my hand. Not for the diamonds.
For her.
“Chloe, I don’t need you anymore.” The words scrape my throat. “Not for the diamonds. But I do…need you. For me.”
The guys hurry out of the house and out of earshot. Kirill nearly trips over Max in the rush, stumbling to escape.
If I weren’t so stressed about Chloe’s reaction, I might laugh. These men face down death without a single blip in their pulse, but feelings? Those they flee from, as if the hounds of hell snap at their heels.
Not that I blame them. A week ago, I would’ve reacted the same way.
Chloe regards my outstretched hand first, then the tote bag full of diamonds hanging from my other arm. Her gaze travels around the room, absorbing all the destruction, not just from Gio’s men, but from her own actions.
The home she built, the safe space she created, destroyed beyond repair.
She could run and start over somewhere new. Or she could accompany me into a world of violence and danger.
My lungs flatten as I wait for her decision.
She steps forward, takes the heavy tote bag, and pushes it firmly into my chest, forcing me to use both hands to hold the weight.
“And I need you. But I don’t need these. They’re Roman’s.” Her eyes never leave mine. “Let’s go.”
A ghost of a smile touches my lips as a sharp, sweet pang pierces my chest.
She’s not asking for protection. She’s declaring her side. She’s walking into the fire with me.
Like the diamonds, heat and pressure shaped her into the person she is.
Forget Roman’s stones.
In my eyes, she’s the true gem.