Chapter 10
LEON
The video feed cuts out like it’s fucking amateur night right as Ivan confronts Mia.
It takes everything within me not to punch a hole through my monitor.
“FUCK!” I shout into the empty house.
Vaguely, I’m aware that it had been a smart decision to stay away from the Cartel’s mansion tonight. If anyone discovered me, Mia’s cover would have been blown.
But right now, I’m struggling to see a single merit in this line of thinking. I should be storming the place right now. I should get into my car and drive and drive until I have her in my sights. I need to make sure that she’s okay. Screw everything else.
All I have is a pathetic little pulsing dot on my screen. It’s a tracker, not a heart monitor, but I still watch it as if it indicates a sign of life.
I wonder if I can convince her to wear a heart monitor next time.
My hand instantly begins to pull on my own hair, sharply tugging me back to reality.
Next time? There shouldn’t have been a first time.
I should never have agreed to this. I should never have allowed her to put herself in danger, should never have asked her to go looking for more information.
I should have charged the fucking camera for her.
Now, there’s nothing I can do but wait. I think I might go insane.
I swipe up on my phone screen and dial Dante.
“I’ve lost eyes on her,” I bark as soon as he picks up. I hope that the strain in my voice is less apparent down the phone line.
It had been necessary to tell him about the marital arrangement with Mia, although from his subdued reaction, I’d say he already had an idea of what was going on. After all, he did sign the alliance papers.
“Shit,” Teo’s second responds instantly. “I’m not spotting any unusual movement. Rotation of staff has been consistent at this point, but I won’t know if there’s been any disruption to their shift pattern for another…three minutes and twenty seconds.”
“What if she doesn’t have three minutes?”
Dante shuffles on the other end of the line. “What did you last see?”
“Ivan. He’d found her somewhere she shouldn’t have been.”
“Do you think she can handle herself?”
The question dangles in the air between us. I don’t answer, not entirely trusting myself to say something rational.
“Leon. It’s your call. I can go in and get her out, but I need you to be positive that she can’t deal with this on her own.”
If it were anyone else, I’d give them a grace period. That would be the smart thing to do. To trust my men to make the right decisions and only jeopardize the mission as a last resort.
But Mia isn’t just some Prince’s Guild lackey. She’s my wife.
God, the word barely has any significance between us. I have no right to claim it. But right now, I can feel myself curling around the word protectively, possessively. I feel like some kind of dragon curling around a precious, sparkling gem.
That one. There, in the stunning black dress and the garter that is slightly too high up her perfect thigh. She’s mine. She’s in danger.
My wife, my wife, my wife.
I shake myself, trying to strangle the thought. “Tell me as soon as the rotation changes.”
It’s the right call. Just not an easy one.
Dante stays on the line while we wait in silence. My eyes never stray from that pulsing dot on my screen.
Then.
“Shift as normal, Leon. No disruption inside.”
The breath I was holding knocks through my ribs as I let it out. “Right.”
“Again, it’s your call, but…”
“Continue to monitor the situation as planned,” I say with a sigh.
“Copy that.” Dante doesn’t immediately hang up as expected. “She’s…a force to be reckoned with. She’ll be fine, Leon.”
I don’t take too much comfort from his words, but I swallow a scolding response all the same. “Update me if anything goes awry.”
I’m in the kitchen when the front door opens. The very picture of calm and collected.
If you ignore the fact I’ve been tracking her little dot on my phone for hours now.
The tension in my shoulders releases a bit more with every centimeter it beats back toward my location. It’s not a heartbeat, I remind myself. But she’s coming anyway. Soon, she will be home and safe.
Of course, someone could have intercepted her and taken the tracking device. But Dante called to say he was following her back to Carmen Rubio’s apartment, where she dropped off the debutante without any issues.
Dante was likely parked outside now, watching as Mia entered the house. I make a mental note to thank Teo for letting me borrow his second.
“Leon?” her voice calls out.
“In here.”
There’s the clicking of heels on the wooden floor, and then…
…and then she’s there.
She’s still unfairly stunning in that sinful black dress, still holding herself tall. Even her makeup seems to have stayed exactly in place.
I bury my fingernails into the palms of my hands to stop myself from reaching for her. Something primal within me needs to do more than see, to touch, to make sure that she’s okay. That there’s not even a hair out of place on her head.
Words don’t feel like enough, but I force myself to settle for them instead. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine,” she brushes me off, uncaring, unaware of the knots coiling in my stomach. “Did I get everything you needed?”
I swallow. I’m still looking, still assessing every visible inch of her. “The camera cut off.”
“Oh. Sorry, I should have charged it more.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Leon?”
“Hm?” My eyes snap to meet hers, looking away from analyzing her preference to weight bear on her left leg. Did she always do that? Or did she injure herself at the party?
“Don’t…take this the wrong way, but…are you alright?”
A bark of laughter escapes my lips. Me? I shake my head in disbelief. “We can debrief in the morning if you’re tired. I caught enough of the evening to begin making progress.”
“Okay. I’ll go then.”
No, no. No. I’ve only just got her back. She’s only just become safe.
“You have a room here,” I blurt out. “If you want it. Save you the trouble of getting across town.”
Please, please. Please.
I feel so tightly coiled. If I make one wrong move, I’ll completely spring into chaos. I won’t be able to let her go. I can’t let her leave this house. Not until this feeling ends, not until I’m sure she’s okay.
“I suppose that makes sense.” She bites her lip. “Will you be coming up?”
Her cheeks instantly redden as I look up at her in alarm. “I mean, you said you were going to begin making progress. I was wondering if you intending to sleep tonight,” she corrects herself hurriedly.
“There’s not much point. Usually, after something like this, I’m a little…pent up.” It’s not even a lie, although this level of anxiety is definitely new. “But you should rest.”
She nods and starts to leave, only to linger in the doorway, hesitating.
There’s something she’s not saying. She must have been hurt, after all. They must have gotten to her. They must have threatened her…
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I press, unable to keep the desperation out of my tone this time.
“Yes. It’s just that I’m…um…I started ovulating.”
Her words are like a master key, making quick work of all the emotions I’ve had restrained in the back of my mind. “What?”
“I got the notification on the ride over and—”
I’m like a moth to a flame. Her eyes go wide with something indiscernible as I make my approach.
My hands instantly reach for her face to hold her there, and finally, there’s the touch I’ve been craving. It’s an overindulgence to examine her like this, checking her head, her jaw, her neck, hands skimming over skin just to make sure.
“I’m not tarnished goods.” She breaks me from my spell with the harshness of her words. “Do you really need to inspect me like this?”
My movements immediately freeze up. “I’m not—"
“Can we just get this over with? It’s been a long night.”
She’s not looking at me. I need her to look at me.
“Yes, it has.” The words come out more tenderly than I intended, but it works. Those huge green eyes look up at me, and I watch as her mouth drops into a slight “O”.
I could get lost in those eyes and just hold her close until morning breaks us apart. I’d be satisfied with only that.
But her eyes lower to my lips and suddenly, the possibility of more sets everything within me alight.
I could have her right here on the kitchen floor, pushed up against the door frame, over the counter like I’d imagined only a few days ago. I could. It would be…hard to justify, with comfortable beds right upstairs. But I could do it.
“What are you—”
But I can’t explain, so instead, I sweep up her legs and pick her up, bridal style. The irony isn’t lost on me, just buried under the overwhelming sensation of her body pressed firmly against mine.
“Put me down!” she half stutters the words.
“You must be tired.” The excuse sounds feeble as I move us toward the stairs, up toward my bedroom.
“I don’t need you to manhandle me.”
“Don’t you?”
I can feel her tense in my arms. “I can walk.”
“I can carry you.”
She protests some more, but I ignore every word until my bedroom door slams shut behind us.
I set her down somewhat gingerly. I assume that’s what the irritated frown on her face is for. But the expression does nothing to mar her loveliness. That fucking dress she’s wearing might be the death of me.
She stands there, defiant, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, waiting for me. Are we doing this then? she seems to ask without the words leaving her mouth.
In response, I remove my cufflinks. It’s a formal gesture that I follow with the unbuttoning of my shirt.
I don’t miss the way her eyes rake over my bare chest as soon as it’s revealed to her. I let the smugness into my smirk as I take a step toward her.
“This…off. Take this off,” I demand as I circle around her, lifting the strap of her dress for a moment with my fingers. There are no bruises or marks on the backs of her arms or shoulders.
She does so carefully, letting the dress pool at her feet. She’s remarkably confident, almost pragmatic.
There’s nothing beneath the dress but the garter she flashed at me earlier.