Chapter 22
Roman
Viktor Dragunov’s penthouse sat high above the city, a glass and steel fortress that smelled of money, smoke, and the faint trace of gun oil. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Dubai skyline, beautiful and glittering far below.
We’d moved here after the deal at the port. Viktor claimed it was ‘safer’ than the docks, though safe was a relative term when you were surrounded by men who slept with weapons in arm’s reach.
The others had spread out through the massive space. Demyan had taken over the office, his pale face lit by the glow of screens as he scrambled signals and scrubbed locations. Grigor was on the balcony, making some quiet calls in Russian that I couldn’t quite make out.
Viktor had cracked open a bottle of expensive vodka, poured two glasses, and was already halfway through a cigarette. Katya sat across from him on the couch, her legs crossed, a gun resting casually on the coffee table beside her drink.
It was all too calm, the kind of calm that came after the adrenaline faded but before the real danger caught up.
I looked down at my phone, at the number that had left the message about Lev and pulled my shoulders back.
I could do this.
I would do this.
I hit call back.
The line rang twice before the voice answered.
“Mr. Markov,” the British man said pleasantly, as if we were old friends discussing business over tea. “I was wondering how long it would take you to call us back.”
“You have my brother,” I said, not wasting time on nonsense.
“We do,” he replied. “He’s well. For now.”
“For now,” I repeated, my jaw tightening. “What do you want?”
“The same thing we told you before,” he said. “We’d like to arrange a meeting to discuss the return of our agent.”
“Kara Lennox.”
“Yes. You can bring her. We would prefer that, but it’s not required at this time.”
“Where?”
“You’ll receive the coordinates tomorrow morning,” he said. “No weapons, no tricks. I’ll call at ten. The meeting will be at 18:00. That should give you plenty of time to prepare.”
I laughed, the sound loud and abrupt in the quiet surrounding me. “You think you can dictate terms to me?”
“Mr. Markov, we already have.”
The line went dead.
Viktor looked up from his drink, exhaling smoke through his nose. “Well?”
“They’re calling tomorrow morning with the meet-up coordinates,” I said. “Meeting at 6:00 p.m.”
Viktor leaned back in his chair. “Lovely people. So, what’s the plan?”
I didn’t answer him. My eyes had already found Dmitri, who was standing near the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He’d been watching Kara.
She looked exhausted, her eyes shadowed, her body drawn tight from too many hours of adrenaline. She was shivering in the cool, conditioned air of the penthouse apartment, still wearing a bikini that seemed to be holding itself together by mere threads at this point.
Dmitri nodded once, silent communication passing between us the way it always did.
“She needs some rest,” I said quietly. “And the two of you need a shower.”
He didn’t argue. He never did when it came to orders that made sense.
Kara started to protest, but I cut her off before she could get a word out. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow. Don’t fight me on this.”
She hesitated, glancing between us, then sighed, pouting slightly. “You two really enjoy ordering people around, don’t you?”
Dmitri gestured down the hall. “Come on. Don’t test me, baby girl.”
She glanced at Katya and Viktor, her cheeks blushing a little, before she stood up and walked toward my brother.
I followed them. She walked between us down the hall, barefoot on the cool marble floor, shoulders tense but no longer trembling. The hallway was dimly lit, the air heavy with quiet.
When we reached the guest room, Dmitri opened the door, and I moved past him to switch on the lamp by the bed. The space was minimalist, all glass and dark wood, the sheets crisp, the air faintly scented with cedar.
Kara stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re both hovering,” she observed.
“That’s because we’re both thinking about the same thing,” I replied.
She arched an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
“You,” I said, stepping closer.
“All to ourselves,” Dmitri rumbled, his voice rough like tires running over gravel. He shut the door behind him, leaving the three of us in that hushed, softly lit room. The click of the latch echoed like a starting gun.
Kara’s chin lifted, defiance flaring in her eyes, even though I could see the exhaustion pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Is this the part where you negotiate my surrender?”
“This is the part where we remind you who you’re dealing with,” I rumbled. Reaching out, my fingers traced the line of her collarbone, her skin warm beneath my touch. I watched her shiver, watched the way her breath caught in her throat. I loved watching her come undone for me.
“Stop,” she whispered, but the word lacked any real conviction.
Dmitri came up behind her, his hands settling on her hips. He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. “You’re still shaking,” he murmured in a dark, velvety caress. “I know you’re worried about Lev. Let us take your mind off of it, at least for a little while.”
My gaze roamed over her, drinking in the sight of her. The swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the long, lean lines of her legs. She was a masterpiece, and she was ours.
This wasn’t the first time we’d shared a woman together.
There was a time, after our father died, when the three of us were lost, adrift in a sea of grief and rage.
We’d found solace in each other, in a dark, tangled bond that no one else could understand.
We’d shared women then, a way to feel something—anything—besides the hollow ache of our loss.
It had been a long time since we’d done that, but the instinct was still there, a primal, territorial urge to claim, to possess, to share only among ourselves.
Kara was different.
She wasn’t just a distraction like the others had been. She was special somehow, and it was as if we all knew it without any discussion. Looking at her now, her body bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, I knew there was no turning back.
I’d wanted her to be mine ever since I’d first laid eyes on her in that bar.
Dmitri had obviously learned a great deal about her charms in their time together, if the tender look on his face was anything to judge by.
And we both knew that Lev was just as obsessed with her as we were, plus he had history with our girl he’d never quite gotten over.
She was the only one who had ever managed to get under the skin of all three of us.
“Come on. Let’s all take a shower together,” I offered gently and Dmitri nodded, right before he lifted a protesting Kara right off the floor and carried her into the bathroom.
“Put me down! I can walk!” Kara huffed.
“We’re going to take care of you, Kara, and you’re going to let us unless you want that pretty little ass spanked first,” I warned her.
Her eyes found mine and I grinned wickedly. I’d spanked her before and she knew I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
She quieted down immediately.
I followed them into the bathroom and turned on the water in the massive shower that looked like it could fit a whole football team, let alone just the three of us. The room filled quickly with steam, fog creeping across the mirror as the room grew several degrees warmer.
Dmitri’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her back against him.
I stepped in front of her, my hands cupping her face, my thumbs stroking her cheeks.
I leaned in, my mouth claiming hers in a deep, demanding kiss.
She resisted for a moment, her body tense, then she melted against me, her mouth opening and her tongue meeting mine in a desperate, hungry dance.
Dmitri’s hands moved up her sides, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips, then her ribs, then cupping her breasts.
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, which were already hard, aching points straining against the fabric of her swimsuit.
She gasped into my mouth, her body arching into his touch.
I pulled back from the kiss, my eyes meeting hers. They were dark, fathomless, burning with a fire that mirrored my own. I saw her desire there, the desperate, needy surrender that she fought so hard to deny.
I reached behind her, my fingers finding the knot of her swimsuit top.
I tugged one tie and then the next, and the fabric gave way.
Her breasts were revealed, full and perfect, the rosy peaks begging for my attention.
I lowered my head, my mouth closing over one of her taut nipples.
She cried out, a desperate sound that was swallowed by the silence of the room.
I suckled, my tongue swirling, my teeth grazing the sensitive peak before I pulled back and looked into the heat of her gaze.
She’d enjoyed that.
Dmitri’s hands moved down, his fingers hooking into the sides of her swimsuit bottoms. He pulled the thin fabric down her legs, and she stepped out of it, kicking it aside. She was naked now, completely exposed to us, her body poised for our touch.
Neither of us took our eyes off our beautiful girl as we stripped down. She never looked away, either.
“Come now,” Dmitri said.
He took her hand and led her into the shower.
I followed. Dmitri adjusted the water until it was the perfect temperature, then placed a steadying hand at the small of her back and maneuvered Kara under the spray.
She stood beneath it, eyes closed, shoulders stiff at first, like she expected the moment to turn into something she’d have to fight through.
It didn’t.
“Easy,” Dmitri said softly. “We’ve got you.”
Her breath shuddered as the heat sank into her muscles.