Chapter 33
The door swung open without a knock, and Bea’s hand instinctively moved toward her waistband before she registered Marco’s complete lack of reaction.
“There you are, sweet boy.” A deep voice boomed.
The man who filled the doorway was a study in contradictions, beautiful and dangerous, polished and feral.
He had to be at least six-four, all lean muscle wrapped in a black shirt that clung to his frame.
His hair was the color of fresh snow, long on top and swept back, the sides shaved clean to reveal intricate tattoos that crawled up from his collar, across his neck, and disappeared into his hairline.
More ink decorated his hands, Cyrillic letters, geometric patterns, symbols Bea couldn’t quite make out.
When he smiled at Marco, she caught the glint of metal. Tongue piercing.
“Alexei.” Marco’s entire demeanor shifted, softening in a way Bea hadn’t seen before. “You’re early.”
“I wanted to see you before…” Alexei’s accent was thick, rolling consonants and sharp edges. His pale blue eyes swept over Bea with polite disinterest, assessing, cataloging, dismissing. Not rude, just… utterly uninterested. “This is the girl?”
“Bea, meet Alexei. Alexei, Bea.”
“Good to meet you.” Alexei nodded once, already turning his attention back to Marco. He crossed the room in three long strides, and suddenly the space felt smaller, charged with a different kind of electricity. “You are not dressed yet? God, Marco, what have you been doing?”
“Talking.” Marco stood, and Alexei immediately invaded his space, hands coming up to frame his face.
“Always talking.” Alexei’s thumbs traced Marco’s cheekbones, the gesture intimate and possessive. “This is why I love you. This is also why you drive me crazy.”
Bea felt like she should look away, but couldn’t. Their chemistry was magnetic, the way Marco leaned into Alexei’s touch, the way Alexei’s entire focus narrowed to the man in front of him like nothing else in the world existed.
Alexei’s smile turned wicked, the tongue piercing flashing again. “I can’t wait to bring Vera, home..” His hands slid down to Marco’s shoulders, squeezing. “It’s going to be very, very fun.”
“Christ, Alexei.”
“What? You don’t want her between us anymore? You don’t want to see me kiss her while you-”
“I’m right here,” Bea interjected, though she was fighting a smile.
Alexei glanced at her like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Yes. Apologies.” He didn’t sound particularly sorry. His attention snapped back to Marco. “Come. Get dressed. I will help.”
He steered Marco toward the closet with the ease of long familiarity, already pulling a black button-down from a hanger.
Bea watched as Alexei helped Marco out of his t-shirt, his tattooed fingers trailing across bare skin with casual intimacy.
There was nothing performative about it, this was just them, their normal.
“Arms up,” Alexei commanded, and Marco obeyed, letting Alexei slide the fresh shirt over his shoulders. What a piece of work Marco was colorful, tattoos all over his body, muscles so defined it should be illegal.
“I can dress myself, you know.”
“But you don’t do it right.” Alexei’s fingers worked the buttons with surprising dexterity, starting at the bottom and working up. “You always miss one. Or you tuck it wrong.” He paused at Marco’s collar, adjusting it with meticulous care. “There. Perfect.”
“You just like undressing me.”
“This too.” Alexei’s grin was unrepentant. He smoothed his hands down Marco’s chest, over his shoulders, adjusting the fit. Then he leaned in, pressing his forehead to Marco’s, and said something in rapid Russian that made Marco laugh and swat at him.
“You are awful.” Marco muttered.
“You love when I am terrible.” Alexei kissed him then, quick and fierce, before pulling back. His expression shifted, something harder sliding behind his eyes. “You come back tonight. In one piece. Yes?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Plans change. People get stupid.” Alexei’s grip tightened on Marco’s shoulders. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise, Alexei.”
Alexei held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded.
He turned to Bea, and for the first time, she saw something like genuine warmth in his expression.
“It was good to meet you, Bea. You seem capable. Smart.” He paused.
“Make sure he comes back. If he doesn’t, I will be very upset. When I am upset, I do very bad things.”
Despite everything, Bea found herself smiling. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good.” Alexei looked back at Marco one more time, something unspoken passing between them. Then he headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. “you reckless beautiful man.”
“Love you too, you psycho.”
Alexei’s laugh echoed down the hallway, and then he was gone
The silence he left behind felt heavy, charged with absence. Marco stood in the middle of the room, staring at the closed door, his expression unreadable.
“I like him,” Bea said finally.
Marco turned, surprised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s completely unhinged, but…” She shrugged. “He loves you. That’s obvious.”
“He does.” Marco’s smile was soft, genuine. “We’re a mess, but we work.”
The words hung in the air, too heavy to ignore.
Bea shifted, trying to lighten the mood. “So. Question.”
“Shoot.”
“The tongue piercing.” She gestured vaguely at her own mouth. “What’s that like? I mean, does it actually…”
Marco groaned, the sound somewhere between agony and ecstasy. “It’s fucking amazing. Like, I can’t even…” He broke off, laughing. “Jesus, Bea.”
“What? I’m curious!”
“It’s incredible. That’s all I’m saying. Alexei knows exactly what he’s doing with that thing but he’s better with the cock piercings.”
They were both laughing now, the tension breaking like a fever, and for a moment it felt almost normal.
Just two people talking, joking, existing in a space where nothing terrible was about to happen.
But then the laughter faded. Marco’s smile slipped first, his eyes going distant.
Bea felt it too, the weight settling back over them like a shroud, cold and suffocating.
Tonight was the night. Victor dies tonight.
The words echoed in the silence between them, unspoken but deafening. All the preparation, all the planning, all the careful steps that had led them here, it all came down to the next few hours.
Bea looked at Marco, really looked at him. Saw the fear he was trying to hide, the determination, the resignation. Saw herself reflected back, a mirror of the same complicated tangle of emotions.
After tonight, nothing would ever be the same. Marco kissed her forehead, then stepped back and offered his arm.
“Shall we go before your men come looking for you?”
Bea took his arm, her mask in place, her heart steady. “Let’s go end this.