“This is going to make security harder,” I said as we climbed the stairs toward the east wing.
“Everything about you makes security harder.”
I laughed. “That's not what you said last night.”
His hand tightened against my back. Warning. But I caught the flush creeping up his neck, the way his jaw clenched like he was trying not to smile.
God, I loved that. Loved that I could make him react. Loved thatunderneath all that ice and discipline, there was a man who blushed when I teased him about sex.
We reached the Sentinel office, tucked away in a corner of the palace most people forgot existed. Viktor's private domain. All reinforced walls and encrypted communications and weapons lockers that probably violated half a dozen international treaties.
He keyed in the access code. The door hissed open, revealing a space that looked more like a military command center than an office. Screens on every wall. Weapons mounted in locked cases. A desk that had seen better days, covered in reports and surveillance photos and the kind of organized chaos that spoke to obsessive attention to detail.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Viktor said, already moving to the communications array. “This may take a while.”
I settled into the chair opposite his desk, watching him work. The way his hands moved across the keyboard, fast and sure. The way his shoulders carried tension like a second skin. The way he looked in his element, all focus and deadly competence.
Beautiful. Dangerous. Mine.
The screen flickered to life. Blue light washed across Viktor's face as the encryption protocols booted up. Then static, then a face.
Adrian.
“You look worse than your reports, Volkov,” Adrian said. His voice was cultured. British. The kind of accent that belonged in boardrooms and opera boxes, not criminal empires.
“Have not been sleeping well,” Viktor answered.
“I can see that.” Adrian's eyes shifted, found me in the frame. “Your Highness. I hope my operative has been satisfactory.”
“He'll do,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. Playing the game. “Saved my life a few times. Hasn't murdered anyone I actually liked.”
Adrian's mouth curved. “High praise.”
“He tries.”
Viktor shot me a look that promised retribution later. I smiled back innocently.
“We have a codename,” Viktor said, steering the conversation back to business. “Ghost Zero. Whoever it is, they're funding the attacksand using the palace as cover. Multiple cells. Coordinated strikes. Someone with deep pockets and deeper connections.”
Adrian leaned forward. “I'll send extraction if it goes sideways. You're not alone in this.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, you've gone radio silent for three days and I'm wondering if the prince's pretty face has compromised your judgment.”
I bristled. Viktor's hand came down on my shoulder, gentle pressure. Shut up and let me handle this.
“My judgment is fine,” Viktor said, voice flat. “Prince Sebastian is asset, not distraction. He has combat training. Intelligence gathering skills. Access to palace intel I cannot get on my own.”
“And you're sleeping with him.”
Not a question. A statement.
The room went very quiet.
Viktor's hand stayed on my shoulder. Steady. Claiming. “Yes.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” Adrian asked.
