Chapter Thirty-Nine
I’m up along with the sun the next morning.
Though Dorian tired me out last night, knowing that I’ll be seeing Clyde today, for the first time in years, makes me nervous.
In the past, I would already have dissociated from the situation, but I don’t even feel the longing to do so now.
I know I’ll be protected, surrounded by people who will kill for me—most notably Dorian and Asher.
I know both men will die for me. As for Seamus and Connor, I think they’ll be willing to kill for me, but I can’t say for certain.
Dorian’s still sound asleep, his bare chest on display and arms splayed beside his impressive body.
He gave me free reign over room service, so I quietly order us breakfast and perch on the windowsill.
When the food arrives, I pour myself a cup of coffee and return to my perch, taking a few minutes to scroll through my phone.
Valerie and Cara have both texted me several times—I told them I came down with a bad case of the flu this week, so they’ve been checking on me daily.
I don’t want to put them in a shitty position by telling them the truth.
If the police catch onto what I’m doing, which Dorian insists they won’t, I don’t want to risk Cara and Valerie incriminating me.
They’d never intentionally do so, but Cara has a bit of a loud mouth.
He blinks up at me sleepily, his eyes clouded as he starts to stir. He stretches his arms above his head with a yawn and sits up, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. I smile as I hand him his cup of coffee.
“Morning,” I greet. “I got room service. Hope that’s okay.”
He sips his coffee and releases a contented hum. The sheets have pooled around his waist, giving me a mouthwatering view of the taut muscles comprising his torso. He really does look like he was sculpted by angels. Avenging angels who gave him endless beauty paired with a dangerous skillset.
“Order whatever you want whenever you want,” Dorian says. “Here, at home, wherever. You have a credit card—limit is 30k a month. Go crazy.”
I shake my head with a quiet laugh. “I don’t spend that much in a year.”
He reaches out to cup the back of my neck, squeezing lightly. “I admire your dedication and determination, but you don’t have to pinch pennies anymore. You don’t have to work if you don’t want to, either.”
“I want to,” I say quickly. “Being a vet has been the sum of my dreams for years. I need to get there.”
“So you will,” Dorian says simply. “I think you’d be sexy as a vet. I’ll probably request to fuck you in your white doctor’s coat.”
I smile, gazing at him fondly. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find a way to accommodate you.” I inhale a deep breath, focusing on our tasks for the day. On my impending meeting with the man who tried and failed to kill me or get me killed more times than I can count. “What are our plans for the day?”
“We have a rendezvous with Sergei and Asher at 5:30. Before that, our day is our own.”
“Carver might’ve sent men out to crawl the city and keep eyes on us,” I speculate. “He’s probably smart enough to anticipate that we’re already here, and that we won’t stay in Silving.”
Dorian picks up his phone and scrolls on it. After a moment, he chuckles. “Sergei already has his people tracking Carver’s men in the city. If we want to go out, they won’t follow us.”
“There’s not much to do around here,” I say honestly. “I mean, there’s a movie theater, but it only plays old titles.”
Dorian nods. “Cool. Then I propose a naked day. You, me, this bed. And the couch.” He looks out into the small living room, brows furrowing. “I think I’ll have you on the dining table, too.”
“Will you, now?” I tease.
He nods. “Yes. You only came a few times last night—I felt like edging you into oblivion. Today, I’m in the mood to tease out multiple orgasms.” He sets his phone and coffee aside, lifting me by the waist and laying me flat on the bed. “I think I’ll get started right now…”
Despite his threats disguised as pleasurable promises, Dorian doesn’t go too hard on me. Mostly, we spend the day cuddling and talking. We have sex a few times, and Dorian is a very generous lover… but neither of us want to be sore for the meeting tonight.
We meet Seamus and Connor at Asher’s range.
It still feels insane to think of the man as my biological father, but in hindsight, there were many clues.
I always attributed his kindness to pity, but now I know he was looking after me in the only way he could.
I greet Asher with a hug, following him upstairs where Connor and Seamus are waiting in his small sitting room.
Many additional chairs have been added, presumably in anticipation of Sergei’s entourage
“You’re both rocking the multiple-orgasms look,” Seamus quips, waggling his eyebrows playfully.
Asher leaves the room with a grunt. Evidently, discussing my sex life is a step too far for him.
Dorian watches him go, then hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest. His hand drops to cup my ass, and he raises his eyebrows at Seamus.
“I have the best piece of ass I’ve ever seen readily available to me.
If there’s a single day when Mira isn’t rocking the glow, you have permission to shoot me in the head. ”
My cheeks heat and I hide my head in Dorian’s chest. “Do you have to announce our private lives to the world?” I squeak.
“They know either way, baby.”
Asher steps back into the room. Dorian’s hand disappears from my ass, moving to my waist.
“We’ve got company,” Asher says. He disappears downstairs and returns after a few minutes, escorting Sergei Novikov and his men into the room.
The men take up positions in the hall and by the door; Sergei descends on one of the chairs like a king taking his throne.
He takes his time examining Connor, Seamus, Dorian and me, before turning to Asher.
“We leave in one hour. Between now and then, let’s talk strategy. ”
My heart rate speeds as discussions ensue, outlining location, conversation topics, and a gameplan for getting rid of Carver’s entire operation.
Not all the men will be in attendance of the meeting—apparently, Sergei’s gleaned intelligence that suggests Carver plans to have about twenty of his men with him.
Five in the room, five in the bar above where we’ll meet, and ten scattered around the perimeter of the brewery.
Connor, Seamus, and Asher are instructed to track down and kill Carver’s remaining men during the meeting, then work their way from the perimeter of the brewery into the room, exterminating everyone they cross paths with.
By the time they arrive, all of Carver’s backup will be dead, and it’ll just be him and whichever men he deems fit to sit in on the meeting left.
Sergei specifies that he wants Carver alive. The bratva boss suspects that the local gang leader will have valuable information to give, especially under painful duress.
Even though I know I should keep my mouth shut, I can’t contain myself. When there’s an ebb in the conversation, I speak.
“Why do you care?” I ask.
Sergei’s ice-cold eyes shift to me. He’s leaned back in his seat, nursing a glass of vodka that one of his men gave him.
“Mira,” Dorian says quietly, placing a hand on my knee. We’re side by side on the couch, seated across from his boss.
“It’s quite alright,” Sergei says, dismissing Dorian’s worry. His energy always has a steady hum of danger, but now its overlaid with the faintest hint of curiosity. He cocks his head to the side as he stares at me. “Why do I care about what?”
“Dismantling Carver’s operation,” I clarify. “Blowing up his trafficking business and freeing the women. Forgive me for my forwardness, but why would a man like you give a shit?”
Everyone in the room’s staring at me now, giving me looks with varying degrees of threat and indignation. As if I’m a peasant who has the gall to demand answers from the emperor.
“A man like me,” Sergei echoes. “What sort of man do you think I am, Miranda?”
I barely hide a wince. I haven’t been called that name in a long time—the last person who called me it was my mother, and only when she was lecturing me.
“My name’s Mira,” I tell him firmly. “As for the sort of man I think you are… you’re dangerous.
Extremely dangerous. The way you hold yourself suggests you’ve had a level of training that surpasses the most elite military or civilian forces in this world.
I think you’re the type of person to shoot someone point blank in the forehead, then go home and sleep like a baby.
You’re ambitious. Determined. Cruel, but only when you need to be.
Too level-headed to be a sociopath, but too moral to be a psychopath.
” I lean forward. “You have morals—I’m sure of it.
Lines you won’t cross for any reason. My only question is why this is one of your lines.
” My eyes flick to his ring finger, where an onyx-black wedding band sits. “Is it because of your wife?”
“You are as perceptive as my legion has informed me,” Sergei says, a slow smile spreading on his lips.
“My wife would love your company. I expect she’d want to study you.
” He chuckles, as if enjoying a private joke.
“I’ve never been a fan of sex trafficking.
Business is business; killing a man who would kill you if given the chance is just survival.
Killing men whose territory you want falls under the same category.
Human flesh, however, is not business. Humans are not inanimate objects, and each life taken or abused has a cost. I can easily shoulder the cost of the killing that needs to be done in my world, but the killing of innocents incurs a debt that weighs heavily on me.
Events in my past have strengthened my commitment to putting an end to trafficking; so much so that I now actively seek out operations rather than destroying any I happen to stumble upon in the course of my dealings.
” He sips his vodka, appearing completely at ease. “Does that answer your question?”
I nod. “Yes, thank you. Sorry for speaking out of turn.”
He examines me for a moment. “No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” I agree. “But since we’re in a room full of people who seem to regard you as their king, I feel it’s only fair that my lowly self apologizes for her gall to speak.”
Sergei grins at Dorian. “You’ll have your hands full with this one.”
Dorian squeezes my thigh again. “I know. I can’t fucking wait.”