ログインIrina Volkov has three most important rules: no emotions, no real names, and never meet in person. For two years she has survived on those rules alone — running romance scams on wealthy men, funneling every stolen dollar toward the crushing debt her abusive stepfather signed in her name before she escaped. She is not greedy. She is desperate. And she is very, very good. Until she targets Nikolai Dragunov. What Irina doesn't know is that Nikolai has known about her from the beginning. He created the perfect bait — a lonely businessman with money to burn — and waited for her to find him. Because in a world Nikolai controls down to the last detail, Irina Volkov is the only unpredictable thing left. He wanted to see how far she would go. Now the game is over. The con is exposed. And Nikolai isn't asking for his money back. He's keeping her. Trapped in his penthouse with nowhere to run and a Bratva boss who looks at her like she's both a puzzle and a prize, Irina has to survive the most dangerous mark she's ever made — and somehow stop herself from falling for him in the process. She's a liar. He's a monster. And neither of them expected to fall. "You took my money, Malyshka. Now you belong to me."
もっと見るCHAPTER TWENTY SIXNIKOLAI DRAGUNOVThe call had been from Henry. A breach in the outer perimeter — two men, dealt with in under twelve minutes. By the time I'd finished the debrief it was nearly four in the morning and the compound was quiet again.I went back to the study.She was asleep. Same armchair as the night before, the throw from the sofa pulled over her, the Dostoevsky open and face-down on her chest where she'd been using it as a placeholder while she waited.I stood in the doorway for a long time.Then I did what I had apparently started doing — straightened the throw, turned the lamp down but not off, and went to bed.But I did not sleep.---IRINA VOLKOVI woke to the sound of Galina in the kitchen at seven and the quality of light that meant I'd slept longer than I meant to.I lay still for a moment, looking at the ceiling, and did an inventory of what I was feeling. The inventory took longer than expected and produced results I wasn't ready to file anywhere.Galina ap
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVEIRINA VOLKOVGalina's words sat in the room like a stone dropped in still water.I watched the ripples reach Nikolai before I understood what I was watching. He was looking at his cards. He hadn't moved in four seconds.I looked at Galina.She was looking back at me with calm, attention — the saying was on purpose."Your mother," I said carefully. "She had green eyes.""She did." Galina set her cards face-down on the table. "Elena. She was from Novgorod originally. Came to Moscow at twenty-two for university and never left." A slight smile. "Vladmir saw her across a lecture hall and that was the end of him. He used to say she ruined him for every sensible decision he ever made afterward." She paused. "He meant it as a compliment."Roman had gone quiet in the way he went quiet when something in a room required it. He was looking at Nikolai.Nikolai set his cards down. "Babushka.""I'm telling the girl about your mother," Galina said pleasantly. "It's not a state sec
CHAPTER THIRTY FOURIRINA VOLKOVI sat with the photograph for exactly four minutes before I got up and walked down the hall and knocked on Nikolai's door.He opened it immediately. Still dressed, which meant he hadn't slept either.I held up the phone.He looked at the photograph. Then at Viktor's message. His expression didn't change but his jaw set in a controlled fury.He took the phone from my hand without asking, forwarded the image and number to Dmitri, and handed it back."Go to sleep," he said."He's outside this building—I mean, I checked, he's not there. But he might still be....""He was outside this building. Present tense, he's in a car two blocks away with four of my men watching him." He held my gaze. "He cannot get in. He cannot get to you. He's been standing in the street sending photographs because standing in the street sending photographs is the only thing left he can do." A pause. "He's frightened, Irina. Frightened men make noise. It doesn't mean they have power
CHAPTER THIRTY THREEIRINA VOLKOVI found them on the stairs by accident. I'd been looking for Katya and heard voices and stopped before the landing.I didn't hear what they said. I only saw from the angle of the corridor below, Katya three steps above Dmitri, looking down at him, and Dmitri looking up at her with an expression I had never once seen on his face in two months of working alongside him.it wasn't warmth or softness.The expression of a man who has just encountered something he didn't plan for and hasn't yet decided what to do about it.I backed away before either of them saw me.Found Roman in the corridor."So, Dmitri and Katya," I said quietly.Roman's face did something extraordinary. "Oh! You saw.""Yeah, I did."He pressed his lips together with suppressed energy, containing excitement. "I give it six months before he admits it and two years before he does anything about it.""That long?""Have you met Dmitri?"I thought about the man who had been professionally sk
NIKOLAI DRAGUNOV I gestured to a hallway leading off the main living area. "There are three bedrooms. The one on the left is yours. You'll find everything you need. Clothes, toiletries, whatever. I had them brought in this afternoon." "This afternoon?" She laughed, a sharp, broken sound. "You were
IRINA VOLKOVThe next morning, I took the metro to Tverskaya and found a secondhand boutique that catered to women who needed to look expensive without actually being expensive. The owner, a rail thin woman with black hair and calculating eyes, sized me up immediately.“Special occasion?” she asked
IRINA VOLKOVThe apartment building in Tekstilshchiki looked worse in daylight than it did at night. Yeah.Crumbling concrete, rust stained walls, windows that was covered with mismatched curtains or cardboard. I climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, the elevator had been broken for six fucking m
IRINA VOLKOVThe wire transfer notification chimed on my phone at exactly 3:09PM.Fifty thousand dollars. Clean. Untraceable. So beautiful.My gaze was fixed on the screen in the dimly lit corner of the cafe, my fingers wrapped around my coffee that had lost its warmth an hour prior. The scene was






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