Chapter 27 Octavian
OCTAVIAN
The boutique smells like expensive perfume.
It's the kind of place where they don't put price tags on anything because if you have to ask, you can't afford it.
Soft classical music plays from hidden speakers as I sit in an overstuffed purple velvet chair near the wall, hands on my knees, pretending to be relaxed.
But I'm not.
Keira stands in front of the three-way mirror, turning slowly as the boutique owner fusses with the hem of her dress. It's the fourth gown she's tried on, and each one has managed to make breathing slightly more difficult.
This one is a dark blue color that somehow makes her red hair look like it's on fire. The dress hugs every curve, the neckline dips just low enough to be dangerous yet tasteful, and the fabric catches the light when she moves.
The others, while good, weren't this good. No, this one is trouble.
She shifts her weight, turning to examine herself from another angle, and the dress moves with her like water. The woman says something low, adjusting a pin, and Keira nods absently, her fingers gliding across her waist.
I should be thinking about security. About exit routes. About how many people will be in that ballroom and which ones pose a threat.
Instead, I'm thinking about how that dress would look pooled on her bedroom floor.
Her eyes lift to the mirror. She catches me staring.
She smiles. "See something you like?"
I don't look away. I let my gaze travel up her body slowly before meeting her eyes again.
"Just want to make sure I can hide a wire someplace."
Her brow arches. "A wire?"
"Might as well capture everything," I say, my voice cool. "Who knows what we'll find? If we're heading into battle, might as well get everything we can."
It's not entirely a lie.
A wire would be useful. Audio recordings of whoever approaches her, whatever they say. It's easier to listen to it later and connect things you may have missed.
But that's only part of it.
The real reason I can't stop staring is obvious — because every dress she tries on reveals more of what I've already touched, already tasted, already claimed. The curve of her shoulder. The dip of her spine. The way her waist narrows before her hips flare out.
I memorized all of it on that gym mat.
And now, watching her stand there in front of me like some kind of goddess, all I can think about is doing it again.
Controlling that body.
Making her scream my name until she forgets everyone else exists.
She turns to face me fully, the owner stepping back to give her space. "Well," she says, smoothing her hands down the front of the dress. "What do you think? Oh, never mind, I know—"
"You look beautiful, Keira."
The words are out before I can stop them.
She freezes. Her lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face. "Really?"
"Of course." I lean forward, elbows on my knees, my gaze locked on hers. "When do you not?"
The air shifts.
Too much honesty. Too much truth.
Her cheeks flush, and she blinks rapidly, like she's trying to process what I just said. "What did you say?"
I open my mouth to backtrack, or to say something dismissive, a joke, anything that will smooth this over, but before I can answer, my phone buzzes.
Relief floods through me, sharp and immediate.
I pull it out, glancing at the screen.
Nicolae.
The relief vanishes.
"Sorry, I need to take this," I say and stand.
I move toward the corner of the boutique, away from Keira and the owner.
"Yeah," I say, answering the call.
"It's going to come soon," Nicolae says, his voice low, familiar in all the wrong ways. "So be ready. They're going to take the package. Track her and let her lead you to them. Just like we did in Hungary."
Hungary.
I glance over my shoulder. Keira's facing the mirror, admiring the dress, but her eyes are watching me now.
Hungary was a shit show. We tagged a woman's bracelet and let her walk straight into an underground gambling ring that had been siphoning off money from a mob family that hired us.
I waited until she was inside, surrounded by men who thought they were untouchable.
Then stormed in, ending it in one night.
She got out, but barely.
I told myself that she knew the risks, that she chose to be there, but still, she took two gunshots in the process.
"Also," Nicolae continues, his tone shifting, becoming almost conversational. "I went and visited your mother's grave. There, next to your brother. I try to visit my sister often. I was honored when she asked me to take you in before she, you know."
My jaw tightens.
"No one knows," he says, the threat threading through his words like a blade sliding between ribs. "Be a shame if they did. But I'll make sure they won't, you know that. We all just do our part."
Motherfucker.
He always resorts to thinly veiled threats. Most of the time, they aren't necessary.
But this time, with Keira, they are at least warranted.
Maybe he knows somehow that I've crossed a line, knows I'm not treating her like a typical package anymore, and he's reminding me what happens if I forget where my loyalties lie.
I mean, if this were any other mission, I'd already have tagged her, but this isn't just any other mission.
"I'll handle it," I say, my voice cold.
"I know you will, Octavian. For the family."
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone for a second longer, then slide it back into my pocket, trying to push down the rage rising in my chest.
This move into the U.S. must be the most important thing for him. Important enough to do whatever it takes.
Important enough to sacrifice Keira.
"Everything okay?"
Her voice cuts through my thoughts.
I turn, and she's standing in front of me now, no longer on the platform, her expression worried.
"Yes," I lie, forcing a smile. "You ready?"
She hesitates for a moment and then nods. "Yeah, sure. Let me take this dress off, pay, and we can go. Do you mind if we stop by C9 for coffee?"
"No, not at all."
"Perfect." She smiles and turns around, then stops and looks back at me. "Oh, I need to take some pics for Calli before I change."
"Okay," I say, stepping toward her. "You want me to take them?"
Her eyes widen slightly, surprised. "Really? Yeah. That'd be great. Thanks."
She hands me her phone, and I take it, though I'm tempted to grab her and pull her toward me.
She steps back onto the platform and adjusts the dress. "Okay, just a few. Calli wants to see all the angles."
I raise the phone, framing her in the screen.
She poses naturally, one hand on her hip, the other brushing through her hair. She tilts her head, smiles, shifts, and smiles again.
Then she poses playfully as she adjusts the neckline.
She looks beautiful, but all I can think about is Nicolae's voice.
They're going to take the package. Track her and let her lead you to them.
I force the words out of my head.
Focus on her.
"I think that's good," she says.
"Wait, turn to the side. One more."
She does, glancing over her shoulder at the camera, her eyes bright. "How about this?"
I swallow hard.
"Perfect."
She laughs, the sound soft and genuine, and it hits me like a punch to the chest.
I wish we could just run away.
Lay naked on some tropical island, her skin warm under my hands, the world and all its bullshit forgotten.
No Nicolae. No threats. No missions.
Just her. Just us.
She steps forward and takes the phone from my hand, her fingers brushing mine. "Thanks. I'll send them to her now. Be right back."
I nod, watching her disappear behind the curtain.
But that's not how this works. That's not how any of this works.
And as I stand there waiting for her, my hands form fists at my sides, because I know what's coming.
I know this was our last moment of quiet before everything turns to fucking chaos.