Semua Bab The Enigmatic Mafia Boss: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Sierra’s POVI'm in my office, behind my desk, a pantsuit on, hair tied back in a messy bun. All business in here. Professional. What he said earlier doesn't matter because I don't want to sleep with him either. I didn't wander down the stairs in Eric's shirt, fantasizing about what it would be like to have Flint rip the buttons off me and fuck me on the counter in my kitchen. Nope. Didn't cross my mind. Not even once.God. I slept with Eric to unwind me, make these residual emotions easier. Instead I spent the night with him, lost in thoughts of Flint. Eric's lips, close to my ear murmuring about how wet I was, how good I felt, made me want to scream, and not in a good way. Eventually I had to tell him to shut up before he ruined the mood. And by mood, I mean the fantasies in my head his voice kept destroying. I wanted to shut my eyes and dream of Ireland.Turns out I'm a forty-five-year-old woman still addicted to the danger that's about to walk into my office any minute. I asked Le

Sierra' POVThere have been several times in my life when I've been grateful for a private jet. But flying a known fugitive from Switzerland to Russia, even on a fake set of documents, makes me appreciate the luxury more than normal.When we got on the plane, I picked my usual seat, expecting Flint to settle into one near me, close enough to at least talk. Instead he sat as far away as possible, asked for earbuds, and has been drinking Irish car bombs and listening to something-maybe music, maybe a string of angry profanity-who knows?Every time my focus strays to him and his relaxed pose, I want to scream. It's irrational, but I hate him for ignoring me so completely that switching off and forgetting I exist when we're locked on the same plane is easy. Since the moment he opened his damn door to me and Tris, my Flint obsession has been reborn.Tris. Fucking Tris.A few seats away, Jay catches my eye. "You all right?""Fine." I draw circles on the side of my head. "Thinking, thinking,

Sierra’s POVI'm on my third glass of vodka in the quaint restaurant down the street from the hotel my family frequents in Volgograd. The place is a bit of a dive bar, grungy even, but I love the Russian food. Their kebabs are exceptional. If the man across the table from me wasn't so distracting, I'd be in heaven.We've barely said two words to each other since we were seated and ordered. I'm praying for our meals to come faster even as I gulp more vodka. Drinking this much is a mistake, but I can't stop myself.Liquid courage."What are you thinking about?" As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I curse the alcohol. The stupidest, most girly ask in the world.The vinyl on the chair squeaks when Flint leans back and crosses his arms. "Trying to puzzle out your employee.""Valeria?"He raises his eyebrows.Another stupid question. More vodka makes its way past my lips."Who has more clout than you?" He picks up his drink. His pain must be substantial because he took painkillers and o

Sierra’s POVFlint's chest is pressed to my face. He's grappling for the gun at his waistband as his other arm helps shield me. It has to be the adrenaline. His injuries are still healing, and I've watched him walk enough the last few days to know he's stiff and sore. His movements are sure, fluid, painless.He glances at me, tucking his chin to meet my eyes. "Were you hit?"I swallow. My shoulder stings. Is the pain from a bullet or how he dragged me to the ground? "I'm fine."Flint breaks eye contact to scan the rest of the area. "Jay!""Here.""Ricardo?" Silence greets his second roll call. He has me pinned so close to the floor I can't see what else is happening."He's down." Jay shuffles to the door."Dead?" Flint says."Not sure.""Shit." Flint's free hand holds the gun, but our position means his back is to the entrance. "Any more shots?""Haven't heard anything for a minute.""Target?""Take your fucking pick. Could be you, Sierra, or Ricardo. You're all hot depending on who's

Sierra’s POVWe’ve made Valeriya’s apartment base camp while we sort through her papers, search for clues. Jay is phoning airlines, checking security footage, calling taxi companies. Flint’s on a conference call with an IT company. They’re supposed to be hacking into her phone records or her email—preferably both.Seems like Flint’s right about Valeriya fucking me over. But since we don’t understand why she vacated her apartment, he can’t declare a complete victory yet. Or at least, that’s what I told him. Really the two of us sitting down for a sober conversation over dinner, discussing things beyond this work, terrifies me. There’s only the tiniest thread of my willpower intact.As I sort through the papers in a desk drawer, I come across a pile that stops me short. The surrogacy documents she signed. Back when I was with Eric, Valeriya responded to an advertisement I ran for a surrogate to carry a baby for me. In the end, the timing hadn’t been right, and I changed my mind.But I l