Vadim
"Holy shit!" Preston exclaims with wide eyes, his head darting about as Ellie leads him into their kitchen.
It's an impressive kitchen with white oak cabinetry from floor to ceiling and a waterfall island in pale concrete.
The window above the sink, long and horizontal, stretching the full width of the wall, offers an impressive slice of the city skyline.
The appliances are built in and panel-fronted, invisible unless you know where to look.
Preston takes in the space with awe. "This is huge. Somehow even bigger than it looked in the photos."
"I know, right." Ellie squeals with excitement, grabs him by the hand, and whisks him away.
Like a neanderthal, I thunder after them, glaring at the back of Ellie's head for holding on to him.
I know they're just friends. I know it doesn't mean anything. I know I'm sounding like a possessive monster.
But I'm not.
I'm just…on edge, which seems to be my default state lately.
I'm more convinced than ever that someone in my inner circle is betraying me, I don't like that Preston keeps challenging me on the need to have continued protection, and now, I've got someone else touching him when I'm so fucking needy and desperate and want him all to myself.
I scowl through the rest of the house tour. Three bedrooms. Two bathrooms. Heated floors. Rainfall showers. A walk-in closet that makes Preston swear more than I've ever heard him swear before. Floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. A balcony with city views. Recessed lighting throughout.
I have to hand it to him, Marek really came through, hooking these guys up with his developer buddy. Preston is falling in love with the place in real time right before my eyes, and it makes my scowl a little less scowly.
I love the place, too, but for different reasons.
Twenty-four-hour concierge and security desk.
CCTV coverage at all entry points: parking, lobby, and corridors.
Secure underground parking with gated access.
Reinforced front door with steel core. Keypad entry with rolling code.
Smart locks with remote access and entry log.
It's enough to get a security freak like me half chubbed.
He'll be safe here, I'm confident of that. But I'm still keeping both him and Ellie under round-the-clock personal protection. Whether he likes it or not, this is one area I am not budging on.
"So, do you like it?" I ask once we're back in the kitchen.
It's a redundant question. Preston's smile has only been getting bigger and bigger. It almost matches Ellie's.
"I love it," he replies, walking over to me, and it's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to maul him right now.
I shoot a glance Ellie's way, hoping he gets the hint and makes some lame excuse about needing to inspect the rainfall shower to give us a moment.
Despite making direct eye contact, the fucker doesn't move, proving that while he's been slightly less hostile to my face the last few times I've seen him, he still doesn't like me.
Either that, or he's just dim.
Or possibly both.
"I know you have a hard time accepting thanks," Preston says, smoothing his hands over my espresso-brown shirt that I'm pretty sure got his approval on the tarmac earlier.
"But I do want to acknowledge your and your brother’s help in setting this whole thing up.
We wouldn't have this amazing place if it weren't for both of you. So thank you and shut up and—"
He lifts onto his toes and places a soft kiss on my lips.
My hands find his waist as I pull him into me. A surprised gust of air whooshes out the side of his mouth as the head of my cock presses into his belly. I lower my head and smile wolfishly. His cheeks blush as our eyes remain fixed on each other.
We don't need words, he knows exactly what I'm thinking. Look at what you do to me, mój kochany.
Ellie clears his throat like the asshole that he is, reminding us of his presence. Like we could ever forget.
I ignore him for a while longer and cup Preston's face between my hands. "I have to go. I've got a few meetings. Can I see you tonight?" My eyes cut to Ellie before returning to Preston. "At my place."
"Of course. I'd love that."
"Excellent." I kiss him on the lips. "I'll text you later this afternoon."
"Sounds good."
I step back from Preston, reluctantly. "Goodbye, Ellie."
"Goodbye, Vadim," he mirrors, matching my forced politeness.
I take one long look at the man who's stolen my heart then leave. The quicker I get through these meetings, the sooner we'll be reunited.
I tap my fingers on the boardroom table impatiently and take another sip of water, wishing it were something stronger.
The gaming commission audit prep meeting is as fascinating as it sounds. And it's running twenty minutes over. It's my last obligation for the day, and I am itching to get out of here and spend some much overdue in-person alone time with Pres.
We've waited months, so why does every minute we're apart now feel so unbearable?
Because he's got you, you idiot.
I grin to myself like the idiot that I am because, yeah, he really has. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say I know what falling in love feels like.
Marek shoots me a discreet quizzical look across the table, a brief slip in his otherwise impeccable charm offensive since we're applying for a license expansion and need the commission's goodwill to get it approved without unnecessary delays or conditions.
It's such a tedious process. I wish I lived in the 1980s. Good old-fashioned bribery seems like a much more efficient way of doing business.
"So if we look at page fourteen of the retention schedule, you'll see we've broken it down by camera zone," our compliance manager drones on.
"Zone A is the gaming floor, zone B the perimeter, zone C back of house.
Each zone has its own retention window based on incident probability weighting.
We recalibrated that last quarter after the audit flagged a discrepancy in the east corridor footage timestamps.
That discrepancy has since been resolved.
The documentation on the resolution is still pending sign-off… "
Kill.
Me.
Now.
My phone buzzes, and I jump on the distraction.
It's an alert from one of the surveillance teams. A confirmed sighting of Farkas, two hours old, a location on the east side. I catch Marek's attention and tap my right shoulder, our secret tell signaling I have to leave immediately.
"I'm very sorry," I say, getting up, closing my folder with a loud snap and scooping up my things. "An emergency has come up. I'll debrief with Marek and ensure the tier classification addendum gets reviewed before it goes to the commission."
I make a hasty exit.
W?adek is already in the corridor.
"You've seen it," I say.
It isn't a question. He's here because he knows.
W?adek nods, hands me a printed report, and falls into step beside me.
I scan it as we walk.
Everything checks out. The times, locations, source.
And yet.
Something feels…off.
I glance at W?adek once, quickly.
"We need to move fast," he says in his thick Eastern European accent.
"No shit."
I pull out my phone and text Preston one-handed without breaking stride.
Me: Something came up at work. I can't make it tonight. Rain check?
I pocket my phone before Preston can respond because I know I'll be tempted to check it.
I hate disappointing him, but I need to do this. Farkas is the only thing standing between Preston and safety, safety his association with me has put at risk from the start.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. My fingers itch to retrieve it, but I suppress the desire.
There's one thing, and one thing only, I'm focused on right now.
The intel placed Farkas at a motel off the 395, checked in under a name we traced back to one of his known aliases.
We move fast, not wanting to waste a second and give him the chance to elude us yet again. It's my four best guys and me in two vehicles. We get there in eighteen minutes, running two red lights.
It's late in the afternoon. The sun casts long shadows, dropping fast behind the Sierra. The motel sign is already lit up against the dusk, flickering on one side.
I take the side entrance, headed for room fourteen, while the team covers the parking lot and the rear.
My heart sinks the second I see the door to the room unlocked and slightly ajar. But I have to remain on high alert. There's a slim possibility it could be a trap to lower my guard, get me inside and contained.
I push the door open with my foot, gun drawn, wait a beat, then charge in. The bed's been slept in, there are some takeout containers on the table, and the bathroom mirror is fogged up. Two wet towels are clumped on the floor.
"Fuck!"
I tuck the SIG into my jacket and drag a hand through my hair. Farkas was here, but we've missed him.
Again.
I punch a hole through the drywall, frustrated as fuck, then key my radio. "Stand down. We're too late."
The timing sits wrong with me on the drive back.
W?adek was waiting outside the meeting room when I got the alert. Already there, already holding the intel. The alert came through to my phone. W?adek shouldn't have seen it before I did.
I didn't think anything of it at the time.
He's the last person I'd ever suspect.
As much as there's no love lost between him and me, he's been my father's right-hand man for decades. He knows better than anyone what a double-cross means. Surely he wouldn't be that stupid to risk his life just to get back at me for taking the job he thought would go to him.
Would he?
I take out my phone as the city lights twinkle in the distance. There are missed texts and calls from Preston. Of all the nights for Farkas to fuck me over, it had to be this one. Tonight was supposed to be different.
Our first time.
My chest tightens, and I find myself caught between two things I can't reconcile—finishing the job with Farkas and getting back to Preston.
I've failed on both fronts tonight. I'm driving back to the casino with nothing, and Preston is sitting in his new apartment waiting for an explanation I don't have.
I have to find a way to make this up to him.