Page 69 of Game Over

I feel a smile form. KentSec Systems—my billion-dollar creation built from the shadows of my darkest skills. A legitimate front for knowledge that would put me in prison if anyone knew its true scope.

“Tell them I’m finalizing the Nightshade protocol. They’ll stop asking.”

“Will you be back this week? The Chandler acquisition needs your signature.”

I glance in the direction where Kira sleeps. “Send the papers by courier to the usual address. I’ll handle it remotely.”

“Anything else you need from us?”

“No. Everything is proceeding exactly as planned.”

I end the call and slip the phone back into my pocket. Time to watch Kira wake up to Level 6.

I move through the forest with practiced silence, each step deliberate. The stream is a shallow, clear-running brook cutting through moss-covered stones. The morning light dapples through the canopy, creating lacey patterns on the water’s surface.

I find my observation point quickly—a natural blind created by fallen logs and thick undergrowth approximately forty-two yards southeast of the water. Close enough to see everything, far enough that she won’t detect my presence. I’ve analyzed the sight lines from every angle.

Settling into position, I check my watch, noting it’s six-seventeen a.m. The forest is waking up around me, birds beginning their morning calls. I wonder if Kira will notice the absent warmth of my body soon. I made sure to leave without disturbing her, but humans instinctively register the loss of physical contact, even in sleep.

The waiting doesn’t bother me. I’ve spent countless hours in surveillance, learning every habit, every movement she makes.

Through my binoculars, I watch the cabin and wait.

My body still remembers the weight of her against me, the unexpected comfort of holding someone who isn’t struggling to escape, and the steady rhythm of her breathing against my chest.

I shift position slightly, scanning the perimeter again. There is no movement except wildlife, and no sound except the natural symphony of the forest and the steady babble of the stream.

Come on, Mischief. Wake up. Feel the absence of me and open those eyes.

Level 6 will test her in different ways—not just her obedience but her willingness to be completely exposed, to be watched without knowing where I am, and to follow my instructions without my physical presence compelling her.

I settle deeper into my position, prepared to wait as long as necessary.

Movement catches my eye—Kira. I adjust my position, settling deeper into my hiding spot as I watch her through the binoculars. She looks disoriented, her hand reaching for the empty space where I had been. Her fingers find the note instead.

I observe her face as she reads—the subtle widening of her eyes, the unconscious bite of her lower lip. She picks up the collar, turning it over in her hands with an expression I can’t fully decipher from this distance. Hesitation? Arousal? A combination of both?

She rises to her feet and slips on her boots and my jacket, stepping outside and scanning the forest around her. I remain still, even though she has no chance of spotting me. Her movements are cautious as she follows my instructions, heading east toward the stream. The morning light breaks through the trees, catching her hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow against the forest backdrop.

My breath catches as she reaches the stream and hesitates briefly before untying her robe. It falls open, revealing her naked body underneath. My cock hardens instantly as she lets the fabric slip from her shoulders completely, pooling at her feet.

She steps into the stream. I see goosebumps prickle her skin through the binoculars as she kneels in the shallow water. I adjust them, zooming in as she cups water in her hands and pours it over her chest. Rivulets trickle paths down her breasts, over her nipples that harden from the cold.

My grip on the binoculars tightens as she begins to wash herself, hands sliding over her body with a thoroughness that suggests she knows exactly how I want her to perform. She turns slightly, giving me a profile view as she runs her hands down her sides, over her hips.

After bathing, she follows the first blue ribbon tied to a nearby tree. There’s a small waterproof pouch attached. She opens it, reads the note inside, and bites her lip again.

I’d chosen her first task carefully—instructing her to kneel on a flat rock beside the stream, legs spread wide, and touch herself slowly while facing the eastern treeline. The position ensures I can see everything, every movement of her fingers, every expression on her face.

I grip the binoculars so hard that the metal digs into my palms. My breathing has become irregular—a tell I’d never allow in any other circumstance. Over two years I’ve watched her through lenses and screens, but this proximity changes everything.

The scent of the forest fades as I focus entirely on Kira. Her fingers move in slow circles between her thighs, following my written command precisely. Even from forty-two yards away, I can see her wetness on her thighs catching the morning light. My cock pulses painfully against my zipper. I shift position, seeking relief that doesn’t come.

This wasn’t part of the calculation. The sheer intensity of my need for Kira crawling through my veins wasn’t factored into my equations.

I’ve maintained a grip on my urges through every surveillance session, every intrusion into her private moments. Clinical. Methodical. Premeditated. But now, with nothing but air between us, decades of discipline vanish. My muscles coil, ready to spring forward. To claim what’s mine.

Three steps. That’s all it would take to reveal my position. Seventeen seconds to reach her at a sprint.

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