Cleo smirked, victorious.
“Exactly. So whether you take him down for corruption or you take him down to your bed, I don’t care. I just want to see you alive again.” She grabbed her phone off the counter, wiggling it in the air. “Or I can just call him and tell him where to find you.”
My blood ran cold.
“You wouldn’t.”
Her eyes gleamed wickedly. “Wouldn’t I?”
I glared, but my heart was pounding.
Cleo wasn’t wrong. I had more money than I’d ever need. I had everything, and yet… I felt like I had nothing.
“You do realize I was running for my life a few hours ago, right? Why would I want to take him to my bed?”
She simply rolled her eyes. “As if. Do you even have eyes?”
“He’s psychotic, we know this.”
“Aren’t those the best in bed?”
I wouldn’t know.
“This is playing with fire,” I whispered, mostly to myself.
Cleo’s laugh rang out as she walked toward the bathroom, throwing one final glance over her shoulder.
“Sometimes getting burned is the best part.”
She disappeared behind the door. I let out a long breath, dragging my hands over my face.
“I stabbed him with my shoe!” I yelled after her.
Her cackle echoed through the apartment. “And the psychopath probably loved it.”
I groaned, throwing myself back onto the couch.
Why the hell did I want to poke the beast?
Maybe Cleo had a point. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I was the one doing the chasing.
Because the last time we met, I was running. I wasn’t going to be caught off guard the next time we saw each other. I was going to be in control. I was going to win.
Chapter Seventeen
Scarlett
A few months later
Even if Ididn’t want to admit it, Dimitri Cristof terrified me. Yes, the chase was electrifying, but there was also fear. I didn’t want to end up dead. I didn’t want him to find me before I was ready, so for months I laid low. No heists. No risky moves. I skipped every exclusive event, avoided every social scene, and dodged every camera lens that might capture my face. I disappeared for the first time in my life since I entered the new money scene, and I absolutely hated it.
Because he was still out there.
Hunting.
Waiting.
I spent nights replaying our encounters, the way his eyes lit up when I fought back, the way his grip tightened around me, as if he wanted to consume me whole.