Page 209 of Reckless Obsession

“I am not giving you a multi-million-dollar car because you claim to know what Tyler fantasizes about.”

“Fine.” I lift my glass again. “Do not.”

Viktor watches me.

I don’t look back.

For several seconds, the only thing between us is the low throb of music and the sound of Igor screaming because he has apparently won another game.

Then Viktor mutters something vicious in Russian.

“You are an evil little bastard,” he says.

“I learned from the best.”

He watches Tyler for a few more minutes before letting out a resigned sigh.

“Fine.”

I turn my head. “Fine?”

“I will get you the Chiron.”

My smile widens.

“Black,” I say immediately. “With blue interior.”

“Do not push your luck.”

“I am not pushing. I am specifying.”

“You are impossible.”

“So I have been told.”

Viktor takes another drink, then looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Tell me.”

“Alright, listen closely,” I say, leaning in until my voice drops below the roar of the ballroom bass. “Tyler’s fantasy is getting chased through the woods by someone in a Ghostface Scream costume.”

Viktor’s face immediately contorts into a knot of profound bewilderment. His dark brows pinch so tightly they almost meet over the bridge of his nose as he stares at me as if I had just spoken in ancient Sumerian.

“You are lying.”

“Why would I lie? You just promised me a Bugatti.”

“Because you are a menace.”

“That is not evidence.”

His expression pulls into genuine confusion.

“So he wants someone to chase him around wearing a fucking Scream mask?”

“Not someone random. Presumably someone he trusts.” I tilt my head, considering it. “It is a fantasy. People who like each other or pretend to hate each other do things like that. They role-play and indulge each other you know?”

“I know that,” he mutters. “But I find the scream mask thing extremely childish.”

“I find it hot.”