Page 109 of The Enemy Protector
And that’s what scares me—hesitation. I’ve never had to think twice about removing a problem. But I know I could never kill her. I don’t even think I could order the hit.
That makes her a much bigger problem than I expected.
When I don’t answer, he gets to his feet and points at the folder. “Nothing new or exciting in there.”
“Good.”
He walks out, and I’m left alone to deal with the fallout of his delivery. I know what I need to do. And I don’t want to do it.
That makes me weak.
I think of those tears. Hurt and anger keeps her sharp. Being sharp keeps her alive.
And if she’s pissed at me, she’s not going to share my bed. I’m a dick because that’s what I’m thinking about. I’m addicted to her body. Mybuntarka. There are so many things I want to do with and to her. Things I want her to do to me.
My sexual appetite will have to be put on hold. I pride myself on my supreme control. This will be the strongest test of that control.
I turn back to the folder and open it. The Irish. The tedious, predictable Irish.
These are the things I can deal with.
25
Sofia
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn Nelson.
He grins. “You know I have to tell him.”
“I’m still going.”
“I know. He hasn’t told us to keep you out of the office, but I have to tell him.”
He’s sending Sergei a text. He does that. Always informing him of my every move. It’s annoying.
And kind of comforting.
“Have you always done that?” I ask.
“What?”
“Text him updates about what I’m doing all day every day.”
He shrugs. “Unless he’s the one on you.”
“And just how often was he on me?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” he replies.
I roll my eyes. Sergei’s people are loyal. I respect that, but it can be a little annoying.
I pull out my phone and check the company email. I frown when I find one that doesn’t make sense. It’s the minutes from a meeting held this morning.
Baranov Enterprises Board of Directors. Seven members present. Four agenda items. And at the bottom, under attendees I read Yuri’s name.
“What the hell?”
“Everything okay?” Nelson asks.
