Chapter 17
Roman
The steam in my marble shower was a white, private cloud, the sound of rushing water a roar in my ears. I braced one hand against the cool, slick wall, my other hand wrapped around my cock. My mind was a theater, and the only film showing was Kara.
It was always Kara now.
Some of it was flashes of memory returning. Other parts of it were pure fantasy.
I saw her in that red lacy dress, the way it clung to her hips, the fire in her eyes when she challenged me.
I saw her on my bed, her dark hair fanned out against my white sheets, her skin flushed, her mouth open as she gasped my name.
I could almost feel the weight of her in my arms, the soft, yielding press of her body against mine, the tight, wet heat as I sank into her.
My fist tightened, my strokes becoming faster, a bit more unhinged.
I imagined her beneath me, her legs wrapped around my waist, her nails digging into my back.
I imagined her saying my name, not in anger or defiance, but in that breathless, broken way I’d remembered she had when she was lost to pleasure.
The image was so vivid, so real, that I could almost taste the salt on her skin, smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of her arousal.
My phone, lying on the marble counter just outside the shower door, buzzed, a low, insistent hum that I barely registered over the sound of the water and the rush of blood in my ears. I ignored it. Whatever it was, it could wait. This was way more important.
My phone buzzed again, this time with the distinct, two-pulse cadence of a voice message. Still, I didn’t stop. I was close, so very close, the tension coiling low in my gut. My balls squeezed tight, and I could feel the familiar, electric tingle at the base of my spine.
The third time was a final, impatient warning. Still, I ignored it. I was lost in the fantasy, in the memory, in the overwhelming, all-consuming need for her. I pictured her face, her eyes closed, her lips parted, her expression a mask of pure ecstasy.
And then I was there.
The orgasm ripped through me, tearing a guttural groan from my throat.
I came hard, my cock pulsing in my hand, hot, thick ropes of my release splattering against the slick white marble of the shower wall.
My body shuddered, my legs trembling, a wave of euphoria washing over me, leaving me breathless, boneless, and utterly spent.
I leaned my forehead against the cool wall, my breath coming in ragged, shallow pants. The water washed over me, a clean, purifying torrent, but I still felt dirty, haunted, and unsatisfied.
I finally reached out and shut off the water.
The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the drip, drip, drip of the showerhead and the frantic thuds of my own heart.
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a thick, plush towel from the warmer.
I ran it over my hair, then wrapped it around my waist, the soft terrycloth a familiar comfort against my skin.
My phone was still on the counter, the screen dark. I picked it up, my thumb swiping across the screen. Two missed calls. Two voice messages.
I tapped the first one, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Good evening, Mr. Markov,” a clipped male British voice began.
“This is merely a courtesy call from the ARCHEON group to inform you that we’ve temporarily taken custody of your brother, Lev Markov.
He’s safe, for the moment, but we would appreciate a conversation regarding the return of one of our agents, Kara Lennox.
I’ll contact you tomorrow with a location. Do try to answer next time.”
The message ended with a faint click, polite as a knife sliding back into its sheath.
For a few seconds I just stood there, listening to the hum of the bathroom fan and the drip of water off the tiles.
“Temporarily taken custody.” The phrase looped through my head like a bad joke.
Lev—of all people—caught? It didn’t sound possible.
The bastard was a honed weapon with instincts sharp enough to chew through steel.
But if ARCHEON had him, that meant something had gone very, very wrong.
I played the second message.
This one didn’t start with a greeting.
“My name is Katya. We haven’t met yet, but you’ll want to remember my name. I’m calling on behalf of the Revenant Group.” There was a rhythm to the way she spoke, like a metronome set to menace. “We have Dmitri and the girl, Kara Lennox.”
Her tone chilled me, but the message didn’t end there. Midway through, my phone buzzed with an incoming text message. I thumbed it open with my other hand after putting the voice message on speaker.
It was a photo, and seeing it hit like a fist straight to my stomach.
Dmitri and Kara, both alive, both bound to chairs.
Their faces were visible enough, Dmitri’s jaw set with controlled rage, Kara’s glare furious.
Behind them was a window in a concrete wall.
Through the dirty glass, the faint outline of a skyline was visible: a tall, cylindrical half-finished tower with a rust-colored crane beside it.
Then Katya’s voice finished the voicemail:
“If you want them back, we’ll be in touch with a location tomorrow. You’ll have your window of opportunity at that time. Don’t try to invent one for yourself before then. It would be pointless and harmful to their health.”
The call ended with unsatisfying silence.
I stared at the phone. Every muscle in my jaw tightened until it ached. The glass screen glowed cold in my hand. The image just sat there, impossible and small, as if the pixels themselves were mocking me.
First Lev. Now Dmitri and Kara.
And who the fuck was the Revenant Group?
It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
For years I’d lived with a certain sense of recklessness. I was good at pretending not to care too much. I left Dmitri to play the commander and Lev to function as the weapon, while I acted the part of the handsome, charming playboy. But right now, there wasn’t anyone left to hide behind.
ARCHEON had one brother. Revenant had the other.
And both roads led straight to me.
I dropped the towel and pulled on black trousers, my body slick with steam and adrenaline. The mirror caught my reflection; I looked older than I wanted to admit. I touched the scar near my temple from a night I couldn’t quite remember. I looked like Dmitri when I frowned. I hated that.
Reaching the living room, I poured a glass of vodka and let myself feel the icy burn make its way down my throat. The taste reminded me I was still breathing.
For once, there wasn’t anyone to give orders but me.
Lev might have been the brute, Dmitri the mind, but I’d always been the one who understood chaos—the dance between charm and destruction.
Now I had to be all three.
I pocketed the phone, returned to my room, and put on a blindingly white shirt, leaving the top buttons undone. I slipped the old revolver Dmitri had once mocked me for carrying into the holster on my belt, and a single thought ran through my head: nobody takes my family and lives.
ARCHEON had Lev.
Revenant had Dmitri.
And Kara—my talented, infuriating, mesmerizing distraction—was caught in the middle of it all.
Two voicemails, two deadlines, one impossible choice.
The British voice had been almost polite, the kind of civility that carried the weight of real power.
We’ve temporarily taken custody of your brother.
The words still burned like acid. I knew enough about ARCHEON to know that they didn’t do ‘temporary.’ When they took someone, they owned them completely, just like they had done with Kara.
Then there was Katya—her voice still winding through my thoughts like smoke. “We have Dmitri and the girl. Kara Lennox.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall as it ticked softly.
11:07 p.m.
If I went to ARCHEON first, they’d talk, posture, make their offers. They’d trade me Lev in exchange for Kara. But I didn’t even have Kara to offer them, plus Dmitri and Kara could be dead by then, killed by whatever dark monster this Revenant Group was.
If I went to Revenant first, I risked losing Lev entirely.
Yet, for reasons I didn’t want to name, my mind kept circling back to Kara.
Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the flash of a memory of her eyes the night we met, of how she’d walked into our lives as a spy, a liar, a weapon sent to take us apart and somehow, she’d managed to tangle up all three of us.
I stood and crossed to the window, the city stretching out beneath me in perfect, merciless order. From this height, Dubai looked empty and untouchable, but I knew better. I’d built a life out of illusions like that.
My reflection in the glass looked like Dmitri’s—cold, calculated—but the knot in my chest was all mine.
I could already hear what he would say if he were standing here:
You can’t save everyone, Roman. Prioritize. Control the outcome.
If Lev was here, he would have said nothing at all. He’d have gone in, guns blazing, and dealt with the fallout later.
But they weren’t here. I was.
I poured another drink and let it scorch a path down my throat. The cold burn helped me think.
ARCHEON wanted Kara, that much was clear. She was a means to an end. But there was no universe where I handed her back to them. They’d punish her, break her, and then most likely erase her from the face of the earth.
As much as I told myself she was just a problem to be solved, the truth was she’d already gotten under my skin.
She’d played me, fucked me, drugged me, lied to me, and I still wanted to see her walk through that door alive so that she could end up in my arms and my bed. Right after I spanked her so hard she would never so much as think about betraying us again, of course.
“Goddamn it,” I muttered under my breath, setting the glass down too hard.
If I went after her first, I could at least get Dmitri back. Two for one.
Then I could deal with ARCHEON on my own terms. Lev could wait. He’d hate it, but he’d understand. He’d do the same for—or to—me.
I grabbed my phone and pulled up the encrypted contacts Dmitri had installed on all of our devices—the quiet network of men and women who owed the Markovs favors. I scrolled through and selected one in particular, a man specializing in geolocation.
I hit call. It rang once, twice.
“Orlov,” his voice rasped when he picked up. No preamble. No small talk.
“I’m sending you a picture,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “Concrete room, small dirty window, skyline, there’s a tower and a crane in the background. Likely to be somewhere in Dubai, but not necessarily. Need you to tell me where that is. Now. I’ll pay double to be your highest priority.”
“Double gets you first up. I’ll pull metadata, lens signature, skyline cues. If there’s a crane, I can usually narrow to construction permits within a fifty-kilometer radius. Give me ten.”
“Make it five,” I said.
“Ambitious. I’ll try.”
“Do whatever you have to. Prioritize motion vectors and reflections in the glass. Check for GPS bleed, camera timecode, compression artifacts—anything. Oh, one last thing. The group that took the picture is the Revenant Group. If you got anything on them, let me know.”
“On it.”
I ended the call, then grabbed my jacket. I checked the gun at my hip, then shoved a blade in my boot. I wasn’t planning on subtlety; I wanted options.
By the time I reached the door, the clock read 11:26. I sent my driver a message. My car would be waiting downstairs, engine already running.
I hesitated just long enough to glance once more at the skyline, the towers glinting back at me. I’d built my reputation on charm and chaos, on knowing when to bluff and when to burn everything down.
This time, I wasn’t bluffing.
I lifted my chin, took a deep breath, and muttered to the empty room, “Hang on, Kara. I’m coming for you.”