Page 107 of No Longer Mine

She smirked, but there was no humor in it. “It’s more than that. It’s always been more than that.”

I could see it now. The pieces were falling into place. This wasn’t just about the thrill of taking from those who had too much. This was her way of taking back power. Of evening the score. Of making men like my father, men like Vanewood, pay in the only way she knew how.

“How much do you know about what’s on those drives?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Enough to know your father is worse than you think.”

I laughed this time. “Little Fox, I knew my father was irredeemable a long time ago, but I just recently found out about the trafficking. I am not in the dark. I know who my father is.”

“I’ve been watching your wins in the city council, I thought that’s what you were doing—trying to take him down.”

A slow smile curled my lips. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Your wins,” she rolled her eyes.

“Same thing,” I drawled.

“My father is powerful,” I said. “Not just in money, but in influence. Taking him down the wrong way would only create more problems. He has people who will keep his legacy alive, people who will step in and fill the void he leaves behind. I need to make sure when he falls, there’s no coming back. No one left to pick up the pieces.”

Scarlett tilted her head, watching me. “So what’s your play?”

I tapped my fingers against my knee, considering my next move. “A slow burn. I’m cutting off his resources, strangling his business under the weight of legislation. I’m making him desperate.”

Her lips parted slightly, and something flickered in her expression—approval, maybe. Respect.

I smirked. “You like that, don’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I like efficiency.”

I chuckled, dragging a hand through my hair. “You and I… we’re not so different.”

Her gaze darkened. “We’re nothing alike.”

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. “Keep telling yourself that, Little Fox. But I see you.” I let the words sink in, let her feel the weight of them.

Chapter Forty-Six

Scarlett

I lay in the dark,my body aching from more than just my injury. I told myself it was the pain keeping me awake. The stitches. The lingering trauma. But that was a lie.

It was him.

Dimitri Cristof, in my home, knowing my past, looking at me like I wasn’t some broken thing but something whole. Something fierce. Something worthy of vengeance.

I should’ve hated it.

Instead, I felt exposed. Like he’d seen every fractured part of me and instead of turning away, he’d only drawn closer.

And now we were something else entirely.

Not enemies. Not quite allies.

But bound together by something deeper. Something dangerous.

I shifted beneath the covers, frustration burning through me. My body was exhausted, my mind ragged from the emotional unraveling of the last few hours, but sleep wouldn’t come. Not with him still here. Not with his words still echoing in my mind.

I see you.

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