Page 161 of The Contract

There’s something there—just out of reach. And for a single, shattering second, emotion breaks through.

Raw. Wild. Almost… human.

Then it’s gone.

Dante nods once. “Yes. Thanks, Dominic. I’ll be a minute.”

“I’ll have the car ready, sir.” In a blink, this Dominic guy is gone—swallowed by a tide of suits, as if the room digested him whole.

And then, everything stills.

Dante’s not looking at me. He’s looking past me. “Zver,” he mutters absently.

I turn to follow his gaze.

A tailored suit. Black tie and mask. The presence of a man who fills the room almost as equally as Dante. But not quite.

Zver doesn’t move. Just stares. One second.

Then two.

But he doesn’t see me. Doesn’t even register me.

All that predator energy—all that alpha male, king-of-the-fucking-jungle focus—is locked on Dante.

And yeah. It stings.

“That’s Zver?” I whisper, voice barely there. My throat’s dry.

The thing is, I never saw his face.

Only felt him.

His hands.

His mouth.

His tongue.

But something feels off. I would’ve sworn the man would easily meet Dante’s towering height. But, he doesn’t.

Or maybe he just carries himself differently when he’s not hauling women around the back alleys of Chicago. “You know him?” I ask.

Dante stares off when he says, “Yes. He’s my executioner.”

CHAPTER 55

Riley

My heart slams hard in my chest. “Executioner?”

Dante blinks down at me. “And yours too, Pom, if you don’t leave. Now.”

Leave? What is with him? “I’m not leaving without Mila.”

His expression hardens. The last flicker of warmth snuffed out until he’s nothing but arctic steel. “Then you’re not leaving.”

I blink, head shaking in disbelief. “Yes we are. We’re not sticking around for some stupid auction?—”

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