Chapter 10
DAMIEN
It’s late morning, and Midtown is bright and cold.
On the table in my office are surveillance photos and reports of various happenings around the city.
I mark patterns with a pencil, drawing a thin red line from each cluster to the same name: Ivan.
Movement is happening around town, and I’m sure he has something to do with it all.
The map is clear, yet messy at the same time.
I close my eyes for a second, memories of last night pouring in. Cassandra on her knees, ribbon bright against her wrists, eyes locked on mine. My hand tips her chin.
“Stand.”
She obeys.
Her breath counts with mine, slow at first, then quicker. When she holds position, I reward her—my mouth at her throat, a deliberate bite, my palm warm at her spine.
“Good girl,” I say, feeling her shiver travel the length of my arm.
I open my eyes and file the memory where it belongs. But damn, is she distracting.
Another memory slices through, sharp and unbidden.
Cassandra on all fours, her bare feet shifting as she settles into place, her eyes locked on mine, fierce despite her trembling breath.
I slide the silk ribbon around her wrists, watching her back arch, her full breasts lifting, nipples hard, her perfect pussy glistening in the low light. The sight of her surrender hardens my cock, a pulse of desire I can’t ignore.
I kiss the corner of her mouth, her breath hitching as my teeth graze her jaw. My cock throbs, the memory searing, urging me to claim her.
“Chin up,” I say, and she lifts it, exposing her throat. “Wider,” I command, nudging her knees apart, her pussy there for me, slick and ready. “Hold.”
Her moans—raw and needy—unravel something in me, a knot of control and want.
On all fours with her ass raised, she’s a vision of submission, her body trembling under my gaze.
I trace her spine, fingers lingering at her lower back, her soft gasps fueling my hunger, my cock straining as the memory burns brighter, demanding I relive every second.
The door opens without a knock. There are only two people who are allowed to do that. I don’t look up until the paperwork lands on the table.
“Mina,” I say.
“Damien.”
Mina Kozlova moves with purpose. An elegant black widow’s ring catches the light, her hair in a twist a storm couldn’t undo. She’s my older brother’s widow, my partner by law and by choice. Loyal to the family with the kind of focus you wish you could bottle and sell.
“Accounting flagged an invoice you routed,” she says. Her voice is silk pulled taut over piano wire. She lays a folder between a Koretsky still and a map of a Red Hook lease. “Didn’t take much brainpower to see that you’ve ordered yourself an early Christmas present.”
I don’t flinch. She hates it when I hand her easy tells. “A contract,” I say. “Thirty days. Paid.”
She ponders the word paid without smiling. “Another toy.” The way she says it makes it sound ridiculous.
“Recreation,” I correct. “Everyone needs a pastime, no?”
She shakes her head. “We’ve got an empire without an heir, and you’re playing games. You should be looking for a wife.”
“The empire needs stability right now more than an heir,” I say. “If I find a worthy woman, there could be more than one heir. All when I’m ready.”
She’s lost enough to be allowed to be practical. “Stability starts with a wife, not a hobby.”
“I’m not a man worthy of a wife yet,” I retort. “I’m working toward it.”
She studies my face. She always knows when I’m lying. I don’t. It’s why we still speak.
She flips the first page, her finger pointing to the second line.
“This amount,” she says, one brow raised, “is higher than the contract.”
“An additional payment,” I say. “Approve it.”
“Purpose.” Mina’s tone cuts like a scalpel.
“Six months’ business rent,” I answer. “To hold her place at the boutique. When this contract ends, her job will still be waiting.”
Mina’s eyes flick up, sharp and knowing. “That’s quite generous for a woman who hasn’t even finished her first week. Bit of a waste if you ask me.”
“I don’t waste money. I invest it.”
Her mouth twitches. “On her?”
“She’s worth the cost,” I reply. “And expensive only in ways that matter.”
Mina signs the base invoice, then taps the addendum. “We are not a charity.”
“No, we’re not. We remove risk. This buys stability—for her, and for me.”
Her eyes narrow. “Soft spots invite knives.” One of her favorite turns of phrase. “You’re soft on this one.”
“I am precise with this one,” I correct her. “She follows my three rules—privacy, precision, truth. Five-minute window. I’ve insulated her job. Makes our arrangement easier.”
Mina files that away with a flicker of interest. “Aren’t these women supposed to be professional subs?”
“She lied,” I admit. “But she has potential.”
Mina tilts her head, measuring me. “A liar with potential,” she says. “Interesting combination.”
“I thought so too,” I reply.
Mina nods toward the photos on my desk, the one of Ivan, specifically. “Speaking of Ivan.” Her gaze flicks to the stills. “He’s consolidating attention, not power. Yet. If you allow him a chance, he’ll cast himself as your nemesis.”
“I won’t give him the satisfaction. I’ve got eyes on him.”
“Good.” She signs the addendum but underlines it with her pen. “Documented as ‘special signing bonus for new hire.’ Next time, I’d appreciate a little warning first. It’s your money, but it’s my job to keep track of it for you.”
“Done.”
She takes in the table again. “You ping Alex about what’s going on with Ivan?”
“Met with him last night. He’s going to see Ivan tonight, paying attention to who sits close when Ivan wants to be seen.”
“Blood is stubborn,” she says. “If it all catches fire, will Alex carry water or gas?”
“He won’t let the house burn.”
Mina leaves it alone—for now. “You’ve upgraded the girl’s security?”
“Already implemented driver whitelist, alternate routes. Quietly. I don’t want tails unless she drops off the map.”
“Good.” Mina closes the folder and slides it back. Her loyalty is a weight that can keep a boat steady or sink it if you lie to her. “Be careful. Anyone who matters to you becomes a route to you.”
“I know. But she has protection.”
“Protection is also a flag.” Mina crosses to the door, then turns. “If she isn’t a toy, say it sooner rather than later. I will change what I defend and how.”
“Noted.”
With that, she smiles over her shoulder as if she knows something I don’t and leaves.
I pick up the pencil. The memory of last night burns again, vivid and relentless.
A message pings on my phone, tearing me away from my reverie.
Thierry leave confirmed. Security sweep complete.
Copy.
Then another message from a local number I don’t recognize shows up on the work line.
Nice place. Quite the upgrade from Crown Heights.
I forward the number to my head of security with a note.
Trace it quietly. Cross-reference with Ivan’s peripherals.
I take the invoice folder and put it in the out tray before collecting my suit coat and keys.
I turn the page on Ivan and write a date beside his name. If he wants to write a story, I’ll decide the ending.