chapter 26

He nods and leans in again, kissing me deeper this time. There’s no question of patience or subtlety. We both know this is more than a kiss—we know where it will end. I let my towel fall when his hand touches the part where I tucked it in, and he ends the kiss to stare at me, sucking in a deep breath.

I feel exposed under his stare, but he looks at me like I’m something unbelievable. It erases my vulnerability. His gaze is pure adoration, and his hands, when they cup my breasts, do so gently.

“Dmitri,” I murmur his name, leaning in as his fingers tease my nipples to hardened peaks, awash with need and desire.

Dmitri claims my lips again as his muscular arms encircle my body, closing the space between us. He nudges my legs apart, stepping in with a muscled thigh.

I pant as his tongue slides into my mouth, and his hand cups my ass, kneading hard. Every part of me screams his name, wanting to be touched and set aflame by his hands.

“Bed,” he whispers, lifting me off my feet.

I scrub my face with my hands, the cold water doing nothing to wash away the lingering frustration. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.It was a mistake; she’s made that clear. I need to let it go, move on.

But the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about last night. About how her body fit against mine, the way she whispered my name, the way she let me in.

I step into the shower, the scalding water cascading over me, but the heat doesn’t stop my mind from wandering back to her. It’s stupid, but I can’t shake it. She’s gotten under my skin in a way I wasn’t prepared for, and it’s messing with me.

There’s no going back to the way things were between us. No matter how much we both pretend it was an accident, we’ve crossed a line.

So where do we go from here?

I don’t know, but one thing is clear: she’s not leaving my mind anytime soon.

“Igor,”I say, the second I see him hovering by the elevator as I step out.

Typical. He’s been circling like a vulture for days. “What brings you to my office?”

“I was hoping I could have a word with you,” he says, trying to match my strides as I make my way down the hallway.

I know what this is about before he even opens his mouth. Igor’s been sweating the Las Vegas deal for weeks now, unable to close it. I knew he would come to me sooner or later. I let him twist in the wind and watched him scramble. He’s desperate now, and desperate men are easy to control.

We reach my office door, and he halts, shifty-eyed, fidgeting like a kid about to confess.

Here we go.

“Okay?” I ask, pausing to let him gather whatever courage he has left.

He avoids my gaze, staring at the floor, the walls—anywhere but at me.

Pathetic.

I already know what he wants, but I let him grovel. It’s more fun.

“You remember when I told you about that good deal in Vegas?” His voice is laced with anxiety. “A billionaire investor interested in my casinos?”

I arch a brow, barely able to conceal my disdain. “Yourcasinos? Did you actually buy them?”

He scratches the back of his head, avoiding the question entirely. “Well, no. Not yet. But I met with the owners. They’re willing to move forward, it’s just...there’s a time factor.”

I stare at him, pretending ignorance. “And what’s stopping you? You’ve got your investor, right? You’ve got the parties lined up. All you need to do is close the deal, buy them out. Profit rolls in.”

Igor shifts nervously, and I can practically see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Just say it. Admit your failure.

“Well,” he falters, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “The thing is, the investor wasn’t going to give me the money outright. He wanted shares. And then, after some time, I’d pay him back half.”

I nod slowly, enjoying the way he squirms. “So, you’re telling me you just realized you were about to get played? That the investor was ready to screw you over?”

Igor’s eyes widen with panic. “Yes. Yes, exactly! I should’ve listened to you. You warned me about outsiders. I thought I could handle it, but?—”

I raise a hand to stop his rambling.

Pitiful. I can almost feel sorry for him.

Almost.

“Let me guess,” I say, the edge in my voice unmistakable. “You’re here to ask me to fix this for you.”

He flinches at the bluntness of it, but nods. “Yes, Dmitri. I need your help.”

I let the silence stretch, drumming my fingers against my thigh as he stares at me like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline.

He’s mine now.

“Okay, Igor,” I finally say, placing a hand on his shoulder like a father about to offer sage advice. “You made a mistake. Aterrible one. But it’s not the end of the world.” My voice lowers, calm and calculated. “I’ll help you. But there’s a catch.”

His eyes light up with desperate hope. “What do I need to do?”

“Leave it all to me,” I say simply. “I’ll handle the investment, the handover, everything. Your name will be on the papers, but I’ll be running the show. Agreed?”

Igor hesitates, his brows knitting together as he tries to process the offer. His eyes dart to mine, searching for the catch, but there’s no hidden motive. It’s all right there, laid out plainly for him.

I control everything.

“You have concerns about my methods?” I challenge, turning slightly as if ready to leave.

“No, no,” he blurts out quickly. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you think is best.”

I suppress a smile, turning back to him with a slight nod.

That’s more like it.

“Good. Send whatever documents you have to my secretary. I’ll go over them and let you know the next steps.”

Igor breathes out in relief, like a man who just got pulled from the jaws of death. “Thank you, Dmitri. Thank you.”

I dismiss his gratitude with a wave, already bored of the conversation. “Don’t mention it. Just remember—your loyalty is the only thing I expect in return.”

He nods fervently, his grin returning. “Of course. That’s why you’re Dmitri Orlov. Your father was the same.”

My jaw tightens, the mention of my father stirring something dark and bitter inside me.

No, he wasn’t.

My father wasn’t ruthless enough. He trusted the wrong people, let himself be deceived, manipulated. That’s not a mistake I plan to repeat.

“I have a meeting,” I say, my voice colder now. “I’ll see you later.”

I turn sharply, striding down the hall as my fingernails dig into my palm.

Your father was the same.

No. My father was weak in ways I’ll never allow myself to be. I won’t let sentiment or misplaced trust cloud my judgment. This empire will be stronger, more unshakable than his ever was. And people like Igor Pavlov? They’ll be the ones who fall in line—or fall entirely.

As I reach the elevator, my thoughts flicker back to Ana.

No.

I can’t afford to think about her now. Feelings make you weak, and weakness gets you killed. I tighten my grip on the situation with Igor, reminding myself of what I do best. Control. Power. Ruthlessness.

That’s what keeps me at the top.