Page 47 of Ruin
The thought should disturb the girl I used to be.
Instead, it makes warmth pool low in my belly, makes me press closer to his heat.
"You're thinking too loud," his voice rumbles against my ear, rough with sleep and infinitely sexy.
"Just thinking about how different I am now." I press a kiss to his chest, taste salt and something uniquely him. "A year ago, I was terrified of my own shadow. I jumped at every sound, saw threats everywhere."
"And now?"
"Now I'm planning to help you destroy your enemies." The words come out fierce, certain. "Now I want to watch them burn."
His hand tightens in my hair, and I feel rather than see his smile. "My little wolf has grown teeth."
"I've always had teeth. I just didn't know how to use them."
He rolls me beneath him in one smooth movement, pinning me with his weight and those steel gray eyes.
The morning light turns them silver, beautiful and dangerous. "I need you to research Kirill Zhukhov. Everything you can find about his operations, his methods, his weaknesses."
"The Russian?" My mind immediately starts thinking about approaches. Legal databases, court records, FBI files, if I can access them. "What specifically are you looking for?"
"He's more dangerous than any enemy I've faced. Uses psychological techniques, targets families instead of just the ones in charge." His jaw tightens, and I see something I've rarely witnessed in him—genuine concern. "I need to understand how he thinks, what drives him. Men like him always have a weakness."
The protectiveness in his voice makes my chest tight with emotion.
He's worried about me, about us.
This powerful man, who fears nothing, is afraid of losing me.
"I'll find everything there is to know," I promise, reaching up to cup his face. "I still have contacts at the DA's office. People who trust me."
"Be careful. If anyone suspects you're feeding information to me?—"
"They won't." I pull his mouth down to mine, kiss him with all the confidence I've built over the past year. "I've learned to lie very well. I can be whoever I need to be."
His eyes darken with pride and desire. "Show me."
For the next hour, he doesn't let me think about Russians or research or anything beyond the feel of his hands on my skin, his mouth claiming every inch of my body.
By the time he's finished with me, I'm boneless and gasping, thoroughly reminded of exactly who I belong to.
"Now go," he says, smacking my ass as I climb out of bed. "Be my perfect little spy."
Michelle Dravens looks exactlythe same as she did six months ago when I finished my internship—sharp bob that never moves out of place, designer suit that screams ambition, calculating eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.
She's everything I used to want to be: successful, respected, fighting for justice within the system.
Now she just looks naive.
The coffee shop across from the courthouse is busy with the morning rush, lawyers and clerks grabbing caffeine before heading into battle.
I chose it deliberately—public enough that our meeting looks casual, but noisy enough that no one will overhear sensitive information.
"Selene!" Michelle stands to hug me as I approach our corner table. "You look... different. Amazing, but different."
"Thank you." I slide into the booth, noting how she takes in my outfit—Armani blazer in midnight black, Louboutin heels that add four inches to my height, jewelry that costs more than most people's cars. The transformation from eager intern to sophisticated professional is complete. "The private sector has been good to me."
"I was surprised when you called. Last I heard, you were still doing victim advocacy work? Though honestly, you look more like you should be running a Fortune 500 company."
