Chapter 15 Sera
SERA
The first day in New York is easier than I expected. After Liev turned me into a horny, breathless mess on the plane, he pivoted back into full professional mode with a precision that was almost jarring. I might have to kill him.
There are no more lingering looks, or accidental brushes. It’s equally reassuring and confusing.
I want to do a good job. I need to. To prove to my brother that I’m not a breakable piece of glass.
Yet part of my brain keeps circling back to what it will feel like if I keep experimenting with Liev. What if I say yes to what I think he’s promising? He’s never mentioned wanting more.
Would casual sex with someone I trust fix me? Am I ready for that?
What if I freeze again? What if my body locks up and my courage abandons me at the worst possible moment? For reasons I can’t fully articulate, I don’t want him to think less of me.
We get to the hotel just after lunch, and Keke makes it known loudly and repeatedly how much she hates it.
“There’s no view,” she complains as soon as we step out of the elevator. “What’s even the point of New York if I can’t see it?”
“We need to stay between the second and fifth floors,” I tell her calmly. “Easier access in an emergency. Less exposure.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not worried about emergencies.”
“That’s why I am,” I say, doing my best not to slap her.
She sighs dramatically and turns to Dani. “She’s very serious.”
Dani grins. “That’s why you hired her.”
The suite is impressive even by New York standards.
Three bedrooms branch off a central living space with high ceilings, tall windows, and heavy drapes.
The furniture is modern and clean lined, all soft neutrals and polished surfaces.
There’s a long dining table, a sitting area with a huge L-shaped sectional, and a bar stocked with bottles.
Keke walks straight into the largest bedroom. “I’m taking this one.”
“Obviously,” Marco says dryly, already dropping his bag near the second door. “I’ll take this one.”
Dani points at the third bedroom. “Mine.” She looks between Liev and me. “You guys?”
“We’ll take the couch,” I say without hesitation. “It’s one night.”
Liev nods. “Works for me.”
“One of you could stay with me,” Keke says coyly. “I’m not picky about which one.”
“We’re good.” I give her a tight smile.
She wrinkles her nose and disappears into her room.
After everyone gets settled, we change quickly. Liev is already dressed in a tailored black suit, but I add a dark blazer to my thin sweater. We head back out, taking the same SUV we took from the airport. Liev drives, while I navigate us around the worst of the traffic.
Keke is buzzing by the time we reach the flagship store for Atelier Florian.
The space is a large, open showroom with white marble floors and rows of tall, glass display cases, lit from their top so each piece of jewelry is visible from every angle.
Staff members are already setting up for tonight’s event.
Rectangular tables with black linen are positioned along one side of the room, racks of clear acrylic chairs stacked against a wall ready for seating.
A team carries in crates of white roses, peonies, and greenery, arranging them in low, tight clusters on cocktail tables and at the ends of display rows.
Tall, narrow, metal frames are being draped with soft white fabric to form subtle partitions near the entrance and around the secluded VIP lounge area.
Up-lights, directed to wash the walls in warm light, have been placed on the floor along the perimeter, their cables carefully taped down.
Everything is arranged so there’s space to circulate around the cases, and no decor interferes with sightlines to the jewels themselves.
I have to remember to keep my mouth closed as I take it all in. It’s breathtaking, and I’ve never seen anything like it.
Keke kisses the owners on their cheeks before immediately disappearing into a back office with them to discuss the evening event.
The jewelry security team intercepts Liev and me by the front door. There are four of them, all dressed in suits similar to Liev’s. A handsome man with light hair steps forward, hand extended. “You must be the team from Elite Security.”
“Yes,” Liev shakes his hand. “Liev Kovalyov. This is Sera Worthington.”
“Etienne Laurent. We’ve accompanied the pieces from the museum in France.”
His accent is smooth and sexy as hell. I’m a little partial to Russian accents, but this guy would be a close runner-up.
“The parure of Madame le Poitier is our priority,” another guard adds.
“We understand. We’re here for Ms. Novak and to coordinate with you for the duration of the tour.”
Etienne gestures toward a private room at the back of the store. “The jewels will be secured by two guards at all times when not being worn. Each event space has a private area like this one where we will meet before the event in order for Ms. Novak to don the jewels.”
“And during events?” Liev asks.
“At least two of us within arm’s reach,” Etienne replies. “Two more in the room.”
“All vendors at each event have been vetted through Elite,” Liev adds smoothly. “Catering, florals, lighting, temporary staff.”
Etienne’s attention shifts fully to him now. His expression doesn’t change. “Our firm has as well.”
I step in before the testosterone derails us. “Great. Everything is covered.”
“Bien s?r,” Etienne says. His gaze flicks back to me. “I heard you are both new. I hope that won’t be an issue. But if it is, don’t hesitate to ask for our help.”
Liev’s posture changes, and I suddenly understand Hannah’s designation of scary. I’m glad he’s on my side. “Sounds like you’ve vetted us as thoroughly as the vendors.”
“The only thing we care about is the jewels,” Etienne replies evenly. “Therefore, we have interest in everyone who comes near them. They are of significant cultural and historical importance to our country. We aren’t taking risks.”
“Understood,” Liev says tightly. “Our principal is Ms. Novak, and her safety will take precedence over the jewels.”
Etienne studies him for a beat longer than necessary, then turns back to me. “You will remain close when she is wearing the pieces?”
“Yes.”
He smiles. “Good.”
One of the other guards steps forward then, his attention fixed on Liev. “We’ve met before.”
Liev’s body stills.
“In Cyprus. I was with Yevgeny Markov.” The man’s eye twitches, and the temperature around us drops.
“You’re mistaken.” Liev’s lips pull back, but what I think is supposed to be a smile looks more like bared teeth.
The guard clearly wants to argue. He’s humming with tension, but Etienne, observing the exchange, turns to me to interrupt.
“Your partner…” He glances at Liev with a taunting smile. “Is fortunate. He gets a beautiful, skilled woman, and I’ve been saddled with des guignols.”
“Guignols?” I ask with a smile. If he wants to flirt to irritate Liev, I’m on board after his stunt on the plane.
Etienne’s smile widens. “Clowns, I believe is the closest translation. And not even attractive ones at that.” He clicks his tongue.
I make an exaggerated sympathetic face. “That’s a tragedy for you.”
The French guard’s eyes light with amusement. “It is indeed. Do you think he would be interested in trading?” He angles his head toward a bristling Liev.
A low growl emanates from the man next to me.
I hide my smile. “Unfortunately, I don’t think so, but I do appreciate the offer.”
“Perhaps we could trade, another time.” The interest in his eyes is clear, but it doesn’t move me.
“Perhaps.” I say. Liev shifts so close I can feel his heat against my side. Maybe this isn’t the best time to tease him. “We’ll coordinate before the evening event.”
Etienne inclines his head, and as the French team walks away, Liev mutters under his breath, “Arrogant French fuck.”
I smile without looking at him. “I don’t know. I thought he was nice.”
By the time we return to the hotel, I’m starting to drag. I didn’t expect the nonstop vigilance to be so tiring.
The walk through the lobby starts out normal enough. The space is fairly busy with a line of people near reception waiting for their mid-afternoon check-in. Luggage carts and porters cut across the space, dodging the groupings of people, making it hard to see everything at once.
A few heads turn as we pass, attention snagging briefly on Keke as she walks in the middle of the group, animatedly talking with Dani and Marco about tonight’s event.
I notice a few people elbow the person next to them and then pretend they aren’t watching a celebrity. Some phones come out. A couple of people lift them casually, pretending they aren’t snapping shots, while others are more obvious.
None of it sets off alarms for me. This is exactly what I expected guarding a celebrity.
And yet… As we move further through the lobby, I can’t help the growing sense creeping in on me that something is wrong—off.
The hair on the back of my neck lifts, and I have the unmistakable sensation of being watched.
I resist the urge to spin and look behind me.
Liev is still walking a few steps in front of us, his posture and expression warning off anyone even thinking about approaching.
I can tell he isn’t sensing the same thing I am.
My gut clenches as the feeling grows stronger.
I search the groups of people, looking for something that doesn’t belong.
My pace slows by a fraction, just enough to give myself room to observe without drawing attention.
My eyes rove over the open seating, the people in line, the reflections in the glossy floor, but there’s nothing.
Still, the feeling doesn’t fade as we approach the elevators.
Liev is facing the elevators, so I turn my back to watch for someone coming up behind us, but other than a few people still taking pictures, everything looks normal.
The doors ding behind me, and Liev steps between those exiting and Keke before ushering our group on. As I join him, he holds the door and leans close.