Our arms were outstretched. My hand trailed down from her wrist until our fingers were laced together.
I didn’t think she would, but her fingers gripped mine back, accepting my hold. We stayed like for what felt like hours—but I knew it was seconds. This was us—our moment.
“Pull me closer,” I said, my voice low and rough to my own ears, filled with unsaid emotions. “Tell me not to leave.”
Her fingers tightened around mine, and she blinked, her lips parting and her breathing accelerating. “But I am going to give you a warning.” I looked into her eyes. “If you pull me closer, I am going to kiss you. I am going to really kiss you, Valerie.”
I waited.
She stopped breathing.
Maybe I did too.
And when Valerie stepped toward me, we breathed.
She pulled me closer.
Another step and my heart thumped harder.
Finally, we stood inches apart. So close, our chests touching—our bodies molding into each other’s embrace.
I brought my free hand up, holding the back of her neck and pulling her toward me. She gasped silently and then I kissed her.
I really kissed her.
I kissed her the way I’d always wanted to.
And I kissed her the way she deserved to be kissed.
Her lips parted, and I took the chance to explore her. There was nothing soft and gentle about the kiss.
It was a kiss that wasn’t meant to be forgotten. Our tongues danced together, swirling, teasing, and making us crave more.
The kiss—it told her was she mine.
I deepened the kiss, and she returned it with the same fervor.
This moment, it was intense, passionate, wild, dangerous. And it felt so fucking right. More right than ever.
I fisted her hair, keeping her face angled just right. With one of our hands laced together, her other hand came up to my face. She touched me—oh so gently. Her fingers feathered over my rough stubble, holding me into our kiss.
We anchored each other.
Valerie deepened the kiss, and I captured her bottom lip, biting softly before plunging my tongue into her mouth again.
We were both gasping for breath when we finally pulled away. Valerie sagged into my arms, burying her face into my chest. Our clasped hands stayed locked together, between us, right over my wildly treacherous beating heart.
I didn’t believe in fate and destiny. That shit didn’t work for us, made men. We controlled our own lives. I controlled my own fucking life. It was in my hands, and I decided what happened to it.
But right this moment, against my own beliefs, I just knew this was it.
The moment we laid eyes on each other—this was meant to happen.
Our fates were sealed. Together.
My fingers feathered over her skin, right over her fucking collar. Gripping the back of her neck gently, I made her look up at me.
I dropped my forehead to hers, and we breathed together, lost in this forbidden moment. When I knew her eyes were on my lips, I finally spoke.
“There is no turning back, silent myshka.”
Chapter 26
Viktor
“The shipment will arrive in a matter of days, Mr. Solonik. I can assure you that. It won’t be late this time.” The man standing in front of me rambled nervously. His nervousness made me choke back a laugh. Shaking my head, I sat back against my chair before crossing my left ankle over my right knee.
Abram was a few years older than me. His tall figure, dark skin, deadly smile, and scars across his face and neck made everyone cower. He was the Undertaker. Yet he was scared of me.
“Valentin gave you a chance last time. This time, I am the one overlooking all the incoming shipments. You won’t get another lucky chance,” I replied offhandedly.
He was Valentin’s trusted man. The one who took care of all the incoming and outgoing cargos.
Abram nodded before looking over his shoulders. “Sluzhitel’, bring me one the white packets. It’s labeled ZA.”
A young boy, a Sluzhitel’, a servant boy, probably around the age of fifteen, came around the corner, a white packet in his hands. His head was cast down, his skinny frame looking too fragile to be living in this fucked-up world.
He handed me the packet and backed away, his head still cast down and still facing me until he was out of sight.
Abram gave me a small smile and nodded toward the item I was holding. “Our most prized drug. Specifically made for our associates. The black-market shakes under its price and dealings.”
Already knowing this information, I only brought the white packet closer to my nose. “And who are your associates?” I questioned lightly, digging deeper.
“Many. We have many. The Mexican cartel—Carlos is one of our most important clients. We trade our drugs. This one for the one he produces. Fair trade.”
I ripped open the packet carefully, dipping my finger into the white power. It was silky against my fingertips, and I brought my coated fingers to my nose.