Chapter 6
Dimitri watched Giselle through the open door. The night sky behind her flickered with lights and traffic, neon signs and the usual hum of the New York City skyline. But nothing could compare to Giselle’s gentle beauty.
He told himself it was because he was curious—because he wanted to see what else she’d discovered about the theft.
But that was a damn lie.
He was watching her because he wanted to.
She sat at her desk, completely absorbed in her work, her focus shifting between a printed report and the glowing screen in front of her. Every few seconds, she would scribble something down, then turn back to her monitor.
And then—
She lifted a fist in the air, whispered, “Yes!” and did a little wiggle-dance in her chair.
Dimitri felt something tighten in his chest.
She was absolutely adorable.
Her enthusiasm was unrestrained, pure in a way he didn’t often see. Most people he dealt with weren’t excited about their work. They were calculating. Tactical. Out for blood or profit, never joy.
But Giselle?
She genuinely loved what she did.
And that made her dangerous.
Not because she posed a threat to him.
But because he wanted her.
More than he should.
A woman like Giselle had no place in his world.
He was a man who had clawed his way to the top through sheer brutality and ruthlessness. People feared him. Respected him. He had buried bodies, broken men, burned down everything that had ever stood in his way.
And yet, here he was—utterly captivated by a woman who had no idea she had walked into the lion’s den.
The sudden ring of her phone interrupted his thoughts.
A different ringtone this time.
Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb.
“There is no pain, you are receding…”
Dimitri’s brows lifted slightly.
An interesting choice.
He watched as Giselle hesitated, her lips twitching, her expression torn between answering and ignoring the call.
Whoever was on the other end—she did not want to talk to them.
That made his shoulders ease slightly, even before she sighed and picked up, pasting on a too-bright smile.
“Hi Craig. How ya doing?”
The name hit him like a punch to the ribs.
Craig.
His fingers tightened into a fist against his thigh.
Who the hell was Craig?
His reaction was immediate, visceral.
Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he entertained—he never needed to. He took what he wanted. Controlled what was his.
But the idea of some guy named Craig hearing that soft, warm tone in her voice made something dark and possessive stir within him.
Then he remembered that flicker of hesitation. She hadn’t wanted to answer.
Whoever Craig was, he wasn’t someone she was eager to speak with. Dimitri exhaled slowly, his body unclenching slightly. Good.
He didn’t want to analyze why that mattered so much, why it even calmed him a little.
But as he watched her closely, her expression shifted—surprise first, then suspicion.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her brows pulling together.
He couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but after a moment, she seemed to relax. She even laughed, leaning back in her chair.
“That sounds great. I’m sure Mom will be excited to hear that. Maybe you could toss a little of your newfound wealth toward Mom’s credit card bill. She called me earlier and—”
Whatever she was saying cut off abruptly.
The change was instant.
Her smile vanished.
Her shoulders curled inward and up, her fingers tightening around the phone as her head dropped a little.
Then she bit her lip.
Dimitri had seen her do it earlier today, and now he realized—it wasn’t just an unconscious habit. She was stopping herself from saying something. She was holding something back. He had seen that expression before. In men who knew better than to speak.
What had “Craig” just said to her?
Her tone cooled when she spoke again. “Right. Well, I’m glad that you’re feeling okay. And I’m sure that—” another pause, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll talk to you later.”
She ended the call. Then just stared at it. Her silver-blue eyes, which had been so bright and excited moments ago, were now clouded with worry.
Dimitri hated to see that expression. He hated that it mattered. He should turn around. Walk away. She was not his to worry about. He wasn’t the kind to get involved in a woman’s personal life.
He was the kind who destroyed lives.
But as he watched her sit there, chewing on her lower lip, staring at that damn phone like it might explode…
Dimitri knew one thing.
Whoever “Craig” was, if he had hurt her in any way—if he had caused even one second of that troubled look on her face—Dimitri would make him regret ever having been born.
Dimitri told himself to walk away. Giselle was working late, clearly still digging into the investigation. He had no reason to bother her. And yet, here he was, standing outside her office like some creep, watching her bite her lower lip in frustration.
He really should get back to work. Maybe he should check in with Max and Luca, see how they were faring in married life.
Nah, not tonight.
He didn’t need to hear how disgustingly happy those bastards were now. Didn’t need to hear about how their wives had changed their lives, how every night ended with tangled sheets and whispered confessions.
Because he knew exactly what they were doing right now.
They were in bed with their women, doing all the things to their lovely ladies that he wanted to do to Giselle.
Dimitri scowled. Not that he wanted to marry Giselle. She wasn’t his type. He needed a naughtier kind of woman. Someone who understood who and what he was. Someone who wouldn’t flinch at the blood on his hands.
And Giselle? She was too pure. Too good.
Again, he vowed not to sully her beauty with his filthy paws.
But thinking of his friends, he realized that there was something he could do for her.
When she stood up to grab another file from the stack on a nearby chair, Dimitri stepped away, pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
“Ava, I need a favor,” he said, knowing he could count on her.
Ava Santos was a sharp, stylish woman who had built a wildly successful clothing empire. Her designs were sleek and professional, the kind of pieces that fit flawlessly and made a woman look elegant and powerful.
“What’s up?” Ava’s perky voice filtered through the phone, and Dimitri pictured her leaning back in her leather chair, smiling at nothing—or more likely, Luca, who was presumably hovering nearby. That man rarely let his wife out of his sight.
“I need a whole line of your clothes in a size…” he paused, glancing back at Giselle. “Ten.”
There was a brief silence, then Ava chuckled. “Absolutely. I’ll overnight them to your place. How many suits do you want?”
“They aren’t for me,” he muttered.
Ava gasped playfully. “No way! Dimitri De Luca is buying clothes for a woman? Who is she?”
“She’s about five-foot-six and…” He hesitated. He wasn’t about to admit to Ava that Giselle was quietly beautiful, that she had a soft loveliness that snuck up on a man and lingered. Instead, he cleared his throat. “She just needs your special touch.”
Ava laughed. “Oh my gosh, you like her! This is adorable.”
“It is not,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes and huffing impatiently.
“Oh, but it is! Dimitri, the big bad tough guy is secretly gifting a woman designer clothes? This is tabloid gold.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ava.”
“Fine, fine,” she said, still way too amused. “I’ll have several pieces flown out tonight. You’ll have them in the morning.”
“Great. Send me the invoice.”
“Not a chance,” she shot back. “I don’t charge for friends. Plus, whoever this mystery woman is, she’s going to look fabulous. You’ll take her out to some fancy restaurant, she’ll be photographed in my designs, and suddenly my clothing line will be everywhere. I consider it free advertising.”
Dimitri exhaled through his nose. She had a point.
“Fine. But I’m sending you something in return.”
Ava snickered. “You are a teddy bear.”
His face darkened. “I am not a teddy bear.”
“You so are. You pretend you’re all grumpy and tough, but I’ve heard the stories, Dimitri.”
His jaw ticked. “What stories?”
“Oh, you know… how you ‘anonymously’ paid off that bakery owner’s mortgage last year when her husband passed away. How you covered the hospital bills for your driver when his kid got sick. Or how you arranged for security cameras to be installed at the shelter downtown after a few break-ins.”
Dimitri scowled.
“And,” Ava continued, relentlessly, “let’s not forget the multiple times you’ve saved Max and Luca’s butts over the years. My husband has told me stories, and, by the way, he still claims you are the meanest friend in existence.”
“Because I am,” he agreed with a firm nod.
“No, you’re not,” Ava sang. “You pretend you’re a grumpy guy, Dimitri, but underneath all that bad-boy brooding, you’re just a big ol’ softie.”
“I have done things, Ava,” he pointed out, not going into specifics.
“Sure, sure,” Ava teased. “But only to the bad guys. And only when they deserved it.”
Dimitri growled.
Ava just laughed. “I’ll text you the tracking info for the package. Oh, and Dimitri?”
“What?”
“Don’t mess this up. I’m guessing this woman is special.”
Before he could respond, she hung up.
Dimitri shoved his phone in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.
A teddy bear?
He was feared across the entire East Coast. He had blood on his hands, and he had no regrets. There was nothing soft about him. And yet…
His gaze flicked back to Giselle’s office, several abandoned coffee cups on the outer edge of her desk.
It was late, and the woman was still sitting at her desk, absently chewing on her lower lip, her delicate brows furrowed in frustration. Whoever had just called her had lied to her, and she knew it.
Hell, he knew it. And it pissed him off. That’s when Dimitri realized he was lurking outside of her office like some lovesick teenager. Stalker much? With a snort of self-derision, he walked right back to her office, unable to stay away.