Chapter 14
DAMIEN
“Rurik’s leaving New York in two days,” Alek says, handing me a phone loaded with shots of him. “He’s flying private to Boston to meet some of his family from Russia. They’re coming in through a back channel via Miami, then switching to domestic, so there won’t be a customs trail.”
“Are they on our watch list?” I ask, glancing at it.
“Mostly. There’s a new face we haven’t seen before. He’s probably just muscle or an intermediary, but he’s worth watching just in case.”
I lean back in my chair and rub my thumb along my jaw. “So Rurik thinks he’s untouchable again, that he can start laying groundwork with his family overseas.”
Alek nods. “It’s the first time they’ve tried a face-to-face meeting stateside since your father was alive.”
“Then it’s the perfect time to remind them why they stopped.”
I tap the photo twice, weighing the angles. A crowded street outside a club, bodies packed tight, Rurik halfway through the frame with that same smug look on his face. He’s always so sure he’s outsmarted everyone.
“We do it in Boston,” I say. “Quietly. I don’t want any bodies left for the press to find.”
“We have eyes on the hotel,” Alek confirms. “I’ve got two teams ready. One to tail him. One to eliminate him.”
“Good.” I stand, buttoning my jacket. “Move the plan up by a day. I want him gone before he even reaches the damn lobby.”
Alek’s eyes glint. “Copy that.”
I nod and grab my phone. “Since I’ll be out of town for a few days, I want everything locked down before we leave. No noise in New York while I’m gone.”
“I’ll handle it,” he says, already pulling out his phone.
My thoughts drift to Lyra as I head toward the elevator. I text her that I’m picking her up. One more night before I’m off the grid. One more time to see her face, hear her laugh, feel her skin beneath my fingertips.
She doesn’t respond right away, but I know she’s on her way home. Her last text said she was planning to binge-watch a series with Becca tonight. I smile to myself, imagining her curled up on that ridiculous pink couch in fuzzy socks, half watching a show and half scrolling her phone.
By the time I pull up outside her building, the sun has dipped low enough to cast everything in deep gold. Shadows stretch across the sidewalk. I scan the street like I always do. I don’t trust any corner I haven’t cleared myself.
She appears from around the block two minutes later, walking toward the door with her hair loose and her coat buttoned all the way up. She pauses to wave at someone in a passing car before reaching the entrance.
Something’s off.
She doesn’t notice it, but I do. The entry door doesn’t latch all the way when it swings closed behind her. It bounces slightly, like it’s caught on something. Then a man appears behind her.
My blood turns to ice.
He’s walking too casually. Keeping just enough distance not to raise suspicion. His hood’s up, but his body language is all wrong. My driver shifts in the front seat, but I’m already opening the door.
“Wait here,” I bark, slamming it shut behind me.
I stride toward the building, my vision narrowing. As I reach the door, I see the folded matchbook shoved into the corner, just enough to keep the lock from catching. It’s sloppy and stupid, and definitely intentional.
I rip it out and push inside, my footsteps echoing through the stairwell. I take the stairs two at a time, pulse pounding.
Then I hear Lyra scream.
I round the corner just in time to see her pressed against the hallway wall, Rick’s hand fisted in her jacket as she kicks at him. He’s snarling something I can’t hear over the roar in my ears.
I don’t slow down.
I reach him in three steps, grab the back of his shirt, and yank him off her like he’s made of paper. He’s not light, but adrenaline makes him weightless. I slam him against the opposite wall, hard enough to knock a frame off its hook.
“You stupid bastard,” I growl, pinning him with one forearm. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
His face twists in panic, his mouth opening to protest, but I press harder. The drywall behind him cracks.
“Damien!” Lyra shouts, her voice high with panic. “Stop! You’ll kill him!”
I almost do. My fist is halfway to his face. My other hand is wrapped tight in the front of his hoodie. His feet barely touch the ground.
But I hear her, and it’s enough to stop me.
I let him drop. He gasps for breath and stumbles back, crashing into the wall again. His eyes dart between me and Lyra, wide with fear.
“You listen to me, you piece of shit,” I snarl, low and lethal. “If I see you again, if you so much as breathe in this city, I will end you.”
Rick doesn’t answer. He just nods and bolts for the stairwell.
I turn to Lyra. She’s against the wall, shaking, but her eyes are locked on mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, stepping closer, hands still balled at my sides.
She nods slowly, then faster. “Yeah. I think so.”
I reach out, and she steps into me on instinct. Her arms go around my middle, and she presses her face into my chest.
“I didn’t know he followed me,” she mumbles. “He just came out of nowhere.”
I rest my chin on top of her head, still trying to get my breathing under control.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur. “You’re safe now.”
A door creaks open down the hall, then another. Someone sticks their head out.
Lyra looks up at me and gives a shaky laugh. “We probably shouldn’t do this out here.”
Her voice is softer now, more grounded.
She brushes her hair back and motions toward her apartment. “Come inside. Becca’s still at work.”
I follow her in, only now realizing my hands are still trembling from how close that came to turning bloody. I take a minute to message my driver and tell him I’ll be staying here for the night. Then I put my phone away and turn to her.
Lyra is standing just inside the apartment, hands still trembling slightly, her back against the locked door. Her breathing comes in quick little bursts, but her eyes are steady, locked on me like I’m the only thing in the room she trusts to make sense. That’s exactly what I need to be right now.
I cross to her slowly, reaching for her hand without saying a word. She doesn’t flinch when I take it. She just steps into me, letting her body melt against mine like she’s been waiting for it all day.
I kiss her before I can stop myself. There’s no hesitation this time.
My mouth finds hers and everything else disappears.
All that fury I had when I saw Rick touch her, when I heard her scream, when I imagined what could have happened, is gone now, transformed into something else.
Something sharp, urgent, and focused entirely on her.
She leans into me, kissing me back with the same hunger I feel in every inch of my body. Her hands pull at my jacket, then my shirt, and I can feel her pulse racing against my chest.
“I need to feel something good,” she whispers into my mouth. “After that. I need—”
“You will,” I say, already pulling her closer. “I’ve got you.”
I don’t rush. I won’t. Not tonight. Tonight is about her.
I pick her up easily, feeling her legs wrap around me, her arms around my shoulders. She kisses along my jaw, her breath warm against my skin, and I carry her to the bedroom without breaking stride.
Her room is dim, quiet, faintly scented with vanilla. I set her down carefully on the bed and slide my jacket off. She’s already working at the buttons of her top, but I stop her with a gentle touch.
“Let me.”
She goes still, watching me, trusting me. I ease her blouse off one button at a time, sliding it off her shoulders and down her arms. Her bra follows. The moment our bare skin touches again, her breath catches.
I kiss her again, softer and slower this time. I want to hear every sound she makes and feel very shift of her body. Her legs tighten around me as I slide my hands down her sides, memorizing the curves, the warmth of her skin, the way she arches up into me.
She lifts her hips so I can take off her jeans, and I do it slowly, pressing kisses to her stomach, then her thighs. I trail one kiss down the inside of her thigh and feel her tremble under me.
“You’re shaking,” I murmur.
“I’m okay,” she says. “I just need you.”
“You have me.”
I don’t say the rest. That she’s had me since the moment I first saw her.
I strip down fully, then pull the blanket over us as I slide back onto the bed beside her. I don’t rush the rest. I want to learn her body the way I’ve already learned her laugh and her voice, her hesitation when she’s unsure of something but brave enough to keep going anyway.
I run my hands along her waist, kissing the line of her neck to her collarbone and then to her breast. She moans softly and threads her fingers through my hair. I keep going, tasting her skin, touching her like the privilege it is.
She’s soft everywhere and so responsive. I ease her legs apart and press a kiss between them, feeling her gasp before she can stop herself. I look up once, just to see her expression.
She’s flushed, beautiful, and desperate for more. I can’t help but give it to her.
I take my time, tasting and teasing her deepest parts. I watch her writhe and gasp, arch and whimper, until she’s gripping the sheets and calling my name. Only when she’s trembling, breathless and spent, do I finally move up over her again.
“You’re perfect,” I whisper, brushing the hair from her face.
“Please,” she says, voice shaking, “I want you inside me.”
I brace myself on my elbows, kiss her again, and slide into her slowly, carefully, watching every reaction on her face. She bites her lip, holding onto my arms, her thighs wrapping tighter around my hips.
“Look at me,” I say.
She does.
I start to move, slowly at first, then deeper. Her breath hitches and I stop.
“Are you still okay?”
She nods, a tear sliding from the corner of one eye. “Yeah. Just don’t stop.”
At her request, I keep going deeper and steadier, until we find a rhythm that makes her cling to me like I’m the only thing holding her together.
She digs her fingers into my back, gasping into my ear, her hips rolling against mine with more need than I’ve ever felt from anyone.
She’s so tight, so warm, and so goddamn perfect that it takes everything in me not to lose it too fast.
I kiss her again, harder, and hold her through it as she shatters a second time, her cry caught between her throat and mine. I follow a few moments later, burying my face in her neck as everything inside me spills out with her name on my lips.
We stay that way, tangled and quiet, with the only sounds our breathing and the distant hum of traffic outside her window.