I gasp sharply at the sudden voice, jerking my gaze up from my laptop.
Kirill is smiling at me like a shark, the tattoos on his throat shifting as he rolls his neck. He winks at me, sending a flicker through me.
Kirill is, objectively speaking, averygood-looking man. Like, perfect face, enviable genetics, and the height and build of a professional athlete. Even the myriad of dark, vicious tattoos snaking across his arms, chest, and up to his jawline are I suppose hot, in that “evil book boyfriend” way that Galina’s always forwarding me TikToks about.
Still, he sort of freaks me out whenever I’m around him. Achilles givesmajorpredator vibes, but they’repersonalized: I’m hisonlyprey. He’s a hunter focused exclusively on me.
I don’t get that vibe at all with Kirill. There’s just this lingering, creeping sensation that he might suddenly decide tobite meor…something.
I force a small smile. “I?—”
“I think we both know, much as youwanted to,” he purrs, pouring himself into the seat across from me, “you were just worried about what that littleboyfriendof yours might think. Or say. Ordo.”
Ice ripples up my spine.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing mine.
My brow furrows. “Secret?”
“That youdidwant to kiss me.”
My frown deepens. “No offense?—”
“No. Don’t sayno offenseright before you say something offensive. Say the offensive thingboldly.” He smiles icily. “Go ahead. Say it. Skip the preamble.”
I frown. “Okay…” My throat bobs. “Kirill, I had no intention of kissing you the night of that party. Or ever, really.”
His smile widens. “It’s okay,little prey,” he murmurs.
My body snaps rigid, my eyes widening.
“What did you just say?” I croak.
His lips curl dangerously. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that pet name, same as those eminentlyfuckablelips of yours, only for Achilles to use?”
“What do youwant, Kirill?” I say tightly.
He sighs. “Do you know why I asked you to kiss me, Yelena?”
I look away, nervously twisting my fingers in my lap.
“You obviously at least have a theory,” he murmurs quietly. “So why don’t you just say it.” He smiles chillingly again. “I promise, you won’t causeoffense.”
The Yelena of a few months ago might have wriggled and writhed on his stupid hook a little longer.
But I’m not her anymore.
“I don’t know, Kirill,” I say flatly. “Maybe because you were drunk and horny, and you’ll fuck anything that?—”
I gasp when his palm abruptly slams down on the table.
“It would appear youareable to offend me,” he growls. “And you’re wrong.” He peers coldly at me. “I have zero interest in fucking you, Yelena. And believe me, that interest level dropswellbelow zero knowing you’ve been screwing Mr. Golden Boy.” He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t try to kiss you because I had any interest in getting into your panties.” Kirill levels a withering look at me. “I did it because I was trying touse youlike a pawn.”
I sigh heavily. “Kirill, I have to study.”
“Do you enjoy being a pawn, Yelena?” he growls, ignoring me.
I scowl at him. “Ididn’tkiss you, in case you’ve forgotten,” I snap. “Which means I’mnot?—”
