Page 82 of Devil’s Reign

“You need to apologize to Boris.”

“There’s no need for that,” Boris protests behind me, his voice strained with fear.

But I’m already marching towards Vanya, jabbing my finger into his chest. “How could you choke him?”

“I’ve choked you,” he replies dryly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smirk.

I smack his chest. “This is not the time to joke.”

He looks past me at Boris. “Melani is granted permission to go anywhere in the building.” Then he looks at his red throat. “You should get that checked.”

It’s not an apology. It’s Vanya, which means it’s about as close as Boris is ever going to get. But judging by the way the bodyguard visibly relaxes, it’s clearly more than enough.

The next days drag by, even though my newly granted freedom means I hardly spend any time inside the suite. But I can’t quite summon the energy to pretend I’m happy when I’m constantly worrying about what will happen this weekend. My guards and I explore nearly every corner of the building. I do a ridiculous amount of shopping to distract myself—clothes, shoes, bags, even small gifts for the men—everything automatically added to Vanya’s tab. It helps… for a while. But returning to the suite always reminds me how little time I have left here.

Vanya spends more and more time away from the suite, coordinating with his brothers. I’m usually asleep when he returns and still sleeping when he’s gone again in the morning. And I hate that, hate that I can’t spend our last days together. Still, he never forgets to leave notes for me. He seems to be getting the hang of it now—maybe even enjoying it. I keep every single one tucked inside a wallet I bought during one of my shopping sprees. I probably shouldn’t, but I fully intend to take them with me when I go.

Time crawls, yet somehow slips through my fingers, and before I know it, I’m waking up to Saturday morning. The day of the meeting. It starts at 7 PM, but I plan to be at the warehouse by 5 PM, early enough to find the best place to hide and wait.

Yesterday, I took Mamma to Tavaria and told her my plans there since Vanya has all the suites bugged—I wasn’t having that conversation anywhere he might hear it. She was skeptical about it and pointed out that he would probably see me at the warehouse. It’s a worry I’ve been pushing back, but as I lie in his bed and blink up at the ceiling, I finally let it surface. She’s right. I have no idea what his plans are, but I know he’s going. And if he’s in that warehouse, there’s every chance he’ll spot me. But that can’t be helped. I had wished, more than once this week, that we could just do this together. It would be so much easier than going behind his back. But I don’t dare bring it up again this close to the meeting. The risks are too high. Besides, he already gave me his answer. A resounding no.

With a heavy heart, I roll out of bed, my eyes catching on the nightstand I’ve claimed as mine.

A single rose lies there, next to a note:

We haven’t had time for ourselves these past few days. I plan to rectify that as soon as all this is over.

What do you think about a trip to Crete?

You in a bikini with the backdrop of deep blue sea and soaring mountains sounds like heaven right now ;)

—V

I read the note again and again until the letters start to blur. Eventually, I find myself tracing my finger over his handwriting. This is my last morning here, which means this is his last note to me. I’m not sure where Crete is, but at the moment, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than there with him.

What if I just stay put today like he asked?

No. That’s not an option. Luciano deserves better. He deserves a sister who cares enough to shove her selfishness aside. I need to get to the bottom of his disappearance before I can dream of settling down. Sure, I could ask Vanya to investigate. With his resources, he might uncover things I never could. But what if he doesn’t want to? What do I even mean to him? I’m just a convenient good lay… aren’t I?

My chest tightens painfully, my breathing turning shallow as my throat constricts. I blink rapidly, trying to hold the tears back, but a few still slip down my cheeks. “What’s this?” I mutter under my breath, pushing myself to my feet and angrily wiping my face.

I knew what this was from the beginning. I seduced him, knowing it would be nothing more than sex. I’m the one who forgot the rules and started falling for him. Maybe I deserve the pain. For wanting what I’ve always known I can’t have.

Ignoring the ache in my chest, I carefully fold the note and tuck it into my wallet along with the others. Then I make my way to the bathroom to get ready.

It’s almost showtime.

40

IVAN

This fucker is good. I’ll give him that.

Over the past few days, my brothers and I have thrown everything we have at finding out who the leader is—tracing his dead men, digging into the ownership of this warehouse, calling in favors from people who owe us—but the information is locked down tight as Fort Knox. Whoever he is, he’s not just rich—he has serious reach. The kind only a handful of men in this city possess.

Dima has been working nonstop trying to get us access to the warehouse so we could plant bugs inside before the meeting, but even that turned out to be impossible. The grounds are surrounded by tall, wired fencing, with workers moving in and out on a normal dock schedule, and every entry point is staffed with guards checking IDs before anyone gets through. Someone has been very careful. Too careful.

“I hate this,” I grumble, tugging my fedora lower as we approach the security checkpoint. The hat sits wrong on my head, and the jacket I’m wearing smells like the man it belongs to.