Beatrice’s POVHe looks at me for a minute and shakes his head. “What did I tell Nolan about fishing?”I lean back in my chair and stare. My fingertips brush up against my gun. “I’m not Nolan. And I’m not fishing.”“What would you call this exercise, then?”“It’s a friendly conversation between Vivian’s proxy, the executor of her will and estate, and a man who owes that estate money.”“I owe her estate nothing. Aamon De Luca is dead. You cannot prove I did that nor can you prove I did not.”“So she got screwed over in more than one way by you.”His granite gaze meets mine as he throws back the last of his drink. “I liked Vivian. But she was two things I could not tolerate. Consumed by revenge. Consumed by disease. One of those, maybe. But both? No. No. She was a shell of a woman. A beautiful shell. She had nothing left to give anyone except death and destruction. Her family was dead, and she wanted to light the world on fire.”Hearing him speak about my mother that way is almos
Beatrice’s POVNolan stares at me for a moment. “You went to see Semyon.”“I did.”He closes his eyes and bangs his fist on the counter. With a swipe of his hand, the glass beside him flies against the wall. His stormy gaze lands on me. “He could have killed you. You shouldn’t have gone, and you certainly shouldn’t have gone alone.”“I’ve been working for the FBI for quite a few years. You think this is the first time I’ve gone into a dangerous situation? Coming here, working for you and Flint is as dangerous as what I did today.” I examine his tense, coiled rage. “If you love me, you have to love all of me. This is who I am. This is what I do.”“And if you gave a shit about how I felt, you wouldn’t be lying to me still.”“I—I knew you wouldn’t want me to go. That you’d either come with me or stop me from going. I wouldn’t have been able to get the information.”“He came out and told you? Denied me the other day but spilled it to you.”“No,” I say evenly. “His son Hagen couldn’
Beatrice’s POVIt’s an easy drive to the warehouse. I’ve got time to spare, and the FBI is on the way. There’s no point in going in early. Dawn is a cloak, and I park the car a few blocks away from the warehouse. A cluster of trees across the street keeps me hidden well enough to watch for any traffic coming and going from the building.To pass the time, I take out a few of my weapons and double-check they’re ready to fire and easy to access in a hurry. I yank my hair out of its ponytail and then do it again but tighter. The last thing I need is hair in my face while I’m trying to take a shot.I’m checking my watch again when a black SUV comes tearing around the street corner and whirls into the parking lot as close to the door as possible. Hopefully, whoever it is doesn’t keep the vehicle there. It’ll make it difficult for the agents to access the entrance. I step into the shadows until the driver’s door swings open and familiar jean-clad legs and a brown-blond head emerge.Shit.
Beatrice’s POVI wake up to the familiar beeping of machines and the low buzz of the hospital around me. It’s been a few years since I’ve been in this situation, but those sounds are etched in my memory. And the smell—antiseptic. It’s enough to make my stomach turn, even on a good day.It takes a second for the reality of why I’m here to sink in. The room is quiet, no visitors in sight. Nolan. The last time I saw him, he looked like he was on the brink. A wave of panic hits me. I scramble for the call button and press it before I can second-guess myself. I close my eyes, hoping for the sound of the door opening. Please let him be okay.“Hey, you’re awake!” Dai Qing beams as she approaches my bed, a nurse trailing behind her.The nurse checks my equipment and leans against the bedrail. “How are you feeling?”“Nolan?” I glance back and forth between the nurse and Dai Qing.“He’s alive,” Dai Qing replies, her smile reassuring. “He was in worse shape than you, but he’s a fighter. It’s a m
Sierra’s POV17 years ago.Flint’s icy gaze is piercing, even from across the crowded Italian bar. Our gazes lock, and he smirks. It’s enough to make me want to toss everyone out of the way, let him lift me onto the scarred wooden surface and fuck me right here with an audience.Sexual napalm. Being round him is like an explosion in my loins. At twenty-eight, I had no idea a smirk from a man could cause my body to catch fire, until I started sleeping with Flint.I’ll be lucky to escape this affair with only third-degree burns.“Sierra.” Nolan bumps my shoulder and drinks from his pint of beer. “Did you her me?”I toy with my straw, dropping my gaze from Flint’s to respond to his younger brother, Nolan. “Don’t have a clue what you said. Sorry.”“I asked how your first day in Italy was going.”“Took a couple meetings for my dad. “I shrug. My father is trying to solidify connections here fro his arms company, and I volunteered to take the lead on the negotiations. “Business comes
Flint’s POVI don’t know where the fuck I am, and I haven't had a clue for days. Whenever I ask the doctor, who comes around to check on my bullet wounds, he says he's not paid to answer my questions. He has a Russian accent, which could be a disaster. If the Moskovs busted my ass out of the warehouse being raided by the FBI, I'm in trouble.Nothing about this place reminds me of a hospital. My room is a sparsely decorated bedroom in an expensive house. The décor is neutral browns and yellows. High-end. No stench of antiseptic.Indebted to the Moskovs, who dropped me in this steaming heap of shit with Beatrice the undercover FBI agent, and Nolan, my little brother, is one of the worst things I can imagine. Hagen, the oldest son, is a braggart. I should have known he wouldn't keep his mouth shut about my father's murder when Beatrice showed up in her spandex and leather jacket. Who needs a stick when the carrot looks like that?The last thing I remember is shooting Beatrice in the war
Sierra’s POVAs soon as I'm out of Flint's room and down the hall, I hang up on the telemarketer and lean against the wall. Seeing him so haggard, so injured makes my chest constrict. Flirting with him, getting close to him, half expecting him to toss me onto the bed to have his way with me, causes the lower half of my body to pulse with desire. Never before Flint, and not once after, has the mere sight of a man made me weak with longing."You okay?" Eve pokes her head out of her office door."Sure, yeah." I straighten and tug on my jacket. "It's just-yeah, I'm fine.""He looks rough, but he's okay. Or he'll be fine as long as he doesn't get shot or stabbed again anytime soon."Dropping my phone into my bag, I purse my lips together. "He's been no trouble?"Eve laughs. "I've avoided him when he's awake, until today. Some mild flirting. Thanks for loaning me the rock." She flashes her ring finger at me.The lights catch the diamond."I don't need it anymore." I frown. "Flint told me on
Flint’s POVI hold the buzzer again. Eve pokes her head in the door and doesn't quite suppress her sigh."Come fluff my pillows."She raises her eyebrows."Please."As she walks toward the bed, I lean forward, and she bunches the pillows, making them bigger. I just wanted to see if she'd do it. I've been coming up with shitty jobs for her since Sierra left. No phone. No internet. No TV. No books. I'm not sure what Sierra thought I would do with my time, but annoying the nurse seems to be it. And digging for whatever she doesn't want me to find out."That ring." I gesture to her left hand. "What's your boyfriend's name again?""Uhh.” She bunches her hands into the sides of the pillows with more determination. "Peter."I smirk. She said Prime earlier."It's funny. Looks a lot like something Sierra would wear.""Oh? You think she'd like this?" She eyes her handiwork and steps away from the bed.Stifling a groan, I ease onto the pillow. There's nothing about Sierra I don't notice. Nothin
Sierra’s POVThe whole day has been a blur, from Eric's pompous expression when I admitted Lucas was mine, to Galina taking me through the steps to care for him, to the distance Flint has put between us.Or maybe I'm imagining his aloofness. Maybe I'm the person putting the space there. My world has tilted on its axis, and I can't shift reality back, make it level again.The thing I do know? I'm exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained. When Lucas goes to bed for the night, or however many hours before he needs to feed again, I head to bed. Flint trails behind me, his hands in his pockets.Eric tries to catch my attention, but I've been ignoring him all day. I don't give a shit if Lucas is biologically his baby too. Ever being with him in any way makes my stomach heave like I'm on a boat tossed around by the sea.Flint closes the door to the bedroom and then leans back against it. "You look tired," he says before pushing off and ambling toward me. He tosses his wallet and other o
Sierra’s POVFlint was somewhere in the building with the DNA samples. After a couple of hours, Eric gets up the nerve to speak to me. One plus of Flint insulting him-his confidence took a hit."We should discuss everything before he gets back." Eric sips the coffee he bought from the café across the street.He's so tall standing in front of me that I'd have to crane my neck up to make eye contact or stand up. Neither appeals to me. I don't look at him, and I stay seated in my chair."Or maybe we should wait for the results to make sure what we're discussing is appropriate." I flip through the Voguemagazine I found on a table."You realize Lucas is yours. Why would I lie about that?""Honestly, I don't understand why you thought any of this was a good idea. The inner workings of your mind are a bit of a mystery to me." I toss the magazine onto the nearest table and stand. "I'm with Flint. We're together. What you think you'll accomplish won't happen."He raises his coffee and takes an
Flint’s POVThe room Charles assigned to us belongs in a museum. Historical eras aren't my thing, but it's clear this place hasn't had any facelift since the house was built, which was probably a hundred years ago. From the doorway, everything seems clean enough, and nothing smells like mothballs or mildew. I sigh. These thoughts are just a distraction from the fucking fertility circus downstairs. A poor effort to calm the hell down, and it's not working.As I close the bedroom door, I realize I should say something to Sierra, but I don't have any idea where to start. My blood boils, rage coursing through me at Eric and her father creating this child without her consent. When she was at her lowest, they tricked her into signing away her rights to her future children. Their motives are inconceivable to me-and I've done a lot of shitty things in the name of profit or revenge. But this? Their plan is so misguided. How could either of them think a baby was the right solution?My brain s
Sierra’s POVIstare into my arms at the baby wrapped in a pale-blue blanket. He has dark hair, and his eyes are closed in sleep. His fingers have the tiniest nails, and I want to touch every one, count them, savor this moment. I'm so absorbed in the sight of a baby, it takes me a second to process Eric's words."What?" I glance up, a little dazed."Our son." Eric gives me an encouraging nod. "You weren't here for the birth, but I know you always wanted to name our boy Lucas after your brother."I laugh self-consciously and shift the baby to hand him to Eric. "This isn't my baby." When I try to pass the bundle, he steps out of reach. "He can't be my baby. It's impossible.""Not impossible," my father whispers. "You were searching for a surrogate when you two split.""Exactly," I agree. "Eric and I broke up, and we destroyed the embryos. I signed paperwork to have them destroyed."My father grimaces.Eric shifts his feet. "This isn't the reaction I was expecting.""I signed papers to ha
Flint’s POVWhile Sierra and I pack in our bedroom, I debate whether to let her come to Russia. There's so much we don't understand. I stuff more clothes into my duffel bag and glance at her as she wanders into the en suite to get her makeup.Curiosity is a powerful thing, and I'm definitely curious about what Eric has been doing. He didn't sound scared in his voicemail messages, or even full of his usual asshole bravado. No, he was excited. Why? I stop packing and lean against the dresser while Sierra continues to put things into her suitcase."Spit it out." She doesn't break her rhythm of sorting and discarding. "You're over there brooding about something.""Don't come to Russia."She laughs. "I'm going to Russia. He called me, not you, and he said you could come along for the show." She throws skincare products into her bag with a huff. "I don't care anymore about what he's doing. You're right. I'll fire him. I don't know why I haven't done it yet."She knows why. I understand why.
Sierra’s POVWhen I slip into bed, Flint tugs me close, but for the first time since we've been together, he doesn't run his hands along me in ways to make me think of sex. Instead, he wedges me in so tight my face is practically squished against his bare chest, and he smooths my hair before kissing the top of my head. Every bandage is gone, and sometimes I lie in bed tracing his scars, asking for their stories as my heart races at the danger and aches at the close calls. A world without him isn't a world at all."You okay?" he says. "You've been too fucking quiet since your mom left.""I don't know," I whisper. Turning toward him, I'm comforted by the steady beat of his heart in my ear. "Anytime I hear someone gave up the chance to be a mom, it makes my heart hurt. I just-I would have done anything to have a baby, to be a mom."He's silent as his hand strokes my back. "Sounds as though your sister had it rough after your mother left.""Yeah. I can't process it. Being beaten by your
Flint’s POVThe tension between Sierra and Opal is unmistakable. They're circling each other, current events, upcoming commitments, neither of them saying what they're thinking. Nothing has happened to Charles–was the first question Sierra asked-which is unfortunate. With him gone, I could eliminate Eric or have someone do it. She would forgive me. Having her father wrapped up in whatever bullshit scheme they've cooked up makes it too complicated to get rid of one without the other. Especially since I can't yet uncover what they're planning. I'm on the cusp of telling her to fire Eric just to see if that sets something in motion.With our sleuthing, there are no hints of secret deals. No more sinister connections Sierra doesn't already know. No paper trails. Unregistered or foreign bank accounts are noted somewhere. We haven't even come across more evidence of PLA involvement with Eric or her dad. What the fuck are they planning? Opal's here perched on Sierra's couch like a bird pois
Sierra’s POVEkaterina answers my last few questions with ease and then says, "That was Flint De Luca.""It was." I gather my papers together into a neat pile."Rare for me to find a man intimidating."I glance up and a smile plays on my lips. "Was he a little intense?""A little? Were we in the same room? The guy is all coiled rage and X- ray vision." She drops her phone into her purse and rises from her seat."Are you-are you safe with him?"Before I can answer, Jay chuckles on the other side of the large wooden table. "You were the only person in this room who wasn't safe today." He frowns as he picks up his pen. "And maybe me." With a shrug, he says, "Point is, he's not a threat to her.""Why would he leave so abruptly?" Her expression is thoughtful. "He gave me that appraisal once-over before he left, which meant something.""Probably wondering how easy it would be to remove your head." Jay's voice is matter of fact, and if it wasn't for the horror on her face, I'd laugh."We do
Flint’s POVSierra rises and steps around the chairs between us to roll my seat back and perch on my lap. "Tell me." Her fingers stroke my furrowed brow."He seems to believe that whatever he and your dad have cooked up, it'll bring you and him closer together." I clear my throat. "You'll pick him."She grins and wraps her arms around my neck. "Never in a million trillion years. There is nothing he could say or do to make me leave you and go to him.""He seemed very confident."Her lips quirk up in derision. "That's his thing-he's confident even when he's wrong. One of his worst qualities." Sierra's gaze focuses above my head. "Heisa win-at-all-cost sort of person, though." Her expression morphs into one of determination. "I wouldn't be with him even if he threatened to kill me."I tighten my arms around her at the suggestion. "He'd never get a chance. He'd be dead as soon as the idea entered his head."There's a sharp knock on the door. She tries to stand, but I increase my grip on h