Page 33 of Victor's Lethal Desire
I arch one eyebrow, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but as soon as I go to speak, to say anything other than how I'm feeling, my exact thoughts hijack my words, and out comes exactly what I'm thinking.
"You're very intriguing, Victor. You know that."
Shit. I need to play this off.
He smiles, and it's infuriatingly charming. "I've been told once or twice."
"I mean, I bested you twice, and here you are, with the confidence of a man who's never been beaten. By a woman, no less."
He spins me out, then pulls me back in hard, our bodies colliding. The impact steals my breath.
"Maybe I let you," he says.
I laugh before I can stop myself. Who does he think he is? Does he really think he can best me? That's pretty rich coming from a man whose day job is like that of every other person here, a fake politician or oligarch.
"Let me?" I say. "That's cute."
"It's true. And I'll prove it. I'm here for..."
"Dimitri?" I cut him off, already knowing the answer.
I mean, why else? What would bring an Ionescu here? And on that note, how the hell did he even get in?
He nods, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me break eye contact because anywhere else is better to look. Of course, I don't mean to look at his lips, but I do.
The only thing I don't fully understand, however, is why he would go after Ivan's brother and not Ivan himself. Going after the don's brother just doesn't seem worth the risk. If you're going to go for it, risk your life for a hit, why not go after the boss?
Does he think Dimitri runs things? Did Dimitri do something personally to him? There was that whole Maxim situation.
I should ask him outright, but I know he won't tell me anything.
I look back at him for a moment, thinking before asking him if he really thinks he'll leave alive.
"Well, if we're putting it all out in the open, his life is just a bonus now." He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I'm here for that tablet..."
The rest of his words drown out, and my body goes rigid.
The tablet.
How the fuck does he know about the tablet?
I almost stop dancing. My muscles lock, and it takes every ounce of training I have to keep moving, to keep my face neutral even as alarm bells scream through my skull.
How is he here for the same damn thing I am?
"His what?" I say, my voice careful, as if I don't know about it.
Victor's eyes narrow slightly, and I know he caught the slip. The brief hesitation.
Dammit.
"It doesn't matter," he says, his tone smooth and confident. "You're not going to be able to stop it from happening."
"I won't need to." I force coldness into my voice, even as my mind races. "His men won't even blink as they end you. You're dead if you try, Victor."
I didn't say I'd stop him, but I'll have to.
Because if Victor steals the tablet, Ivan will never get whatever proof he needs, and God only knows what Volkov's intel is on there. It will fall into the hands of the Ionescus.
