Page 16 of Konstantin
I do what needs to be done. I don’t crumble under pressure.
But maybe he’s right. Maybe I am unstable. Maybe I’ve always been. And if that’s the case, there’s no saving me now.
It’s why I don’t waste my time on relationships. Too much baggage. Too devoted to my job. Take your pick. Most men want a damsel—someone soft and fragile, someone they can protect.
I am neither. I don’t need saving. From the moment my brother pulled me out of that hell, I swore I’d never be weak again. I’ll have control. Or I’ll die trying.
This business with Konstantin is no different. It has to go exactly as planned. He’s probably already looked me up, but he’ll find exactly what I want him to, thanks to my boss.
He knew I was going to do this anyway and wouldn’t listen to reason, so he helped me instead. Took pity on me, maybe.
It helps that he’s known me since I was five. One of the few who tried to get my mom clean.
He was a beat cop when he arrested her the first time and he put her into rehab, then took us in. He didn’t have to. We were nobody to him. But he cared. And ever since, he’s stuck around, maybe because he lost his own son when he was little.
Mom did get clean. But it didn’t last. After she was arrested again when I was eleven, Gerardo tried to take me in, and his lieutenantshut it down. So I went into foster care, then back to her, but he never disappeared. He was always there for both Nate and me.
If not for him, my brother wouldn’t have had the career he did, and neither would I. I owe him.
I also know he thinks this plan of mine will fail. But he still gave me a new identity and wiped my old one clean. If I was going to become Tessa, I needed to be her in every way.
Konstantin can’t find out who I really am. If he does, I’m dead. He doesn’t tolerate betrayal. I’ve got folders of evidence proving what happens to those who cross him. Women, men, it doesn’t matter. You betray him, you end up on his hit list, and I need to stay off it.
At least until Nate is free. After that, Konstantin can do whatever the hell he wants to me.
I delete the photos of him from my phone. Not that it matters. They’re backed up on a hard drive.
Minutes pass. Then I see him. He steps out of his black Royce, flanked by his guards.
Showtime.
Pushing the door open, I start toward him from across the street. The second his eyes land on me, his lips twitch, his fingers sliding his sunglasses off. When our gazes lock, I fight the reaction that slams through me.
Attraction is a deadly thing if you’re not careful. And I’m nothing if not careful.
He watches me approach, a smirk curving his mouth like he’s already won something. He always looks like that, like the world bends to his will and he’s never had to chase a damn thing in his life.
I stop a few feet from him, keeping my expression blank. His eyes rake over me, slow and deliberate, like he’s assessing every detail, filing it away. He slides his sunglasses into the pocket of his tailored coat.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again, Ms. Monroe.” His voice isdeep, smooth. Danger wrapped in velvet. “Guess I made quite the impression.”
“Not the kind you wanna believe.” I cross my arms, glancing at his men before turning my gaze back to him. One dark brow lifts, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me as he gestures for his men to go inside.
They don’t hesitate. A simple command, and they move like shadows, slipping through the bar’s doors without a word.
Now it’s just us, and my heart beats faster, as though he’s got a hold of it, commanding it. And I hate that feeling of knowing he can control me, any part of me.
Konstantin spreads his arms slightly, like he’s inviting me to take my best shot. “What can I do for you?”
“I want the job.” There’s zero hesitation, no sign of weakness, and I know he appreciates that.
His smirk deepens, and he exhales a quiet chuckle.
“Youwantthe job?” he repeats, like I’ve just amused him more than he expected.
“I think I made myself clear.”
His sharp gaze flicks over my face, lingering on my mouth before fastening with my eyes again. He takes a step closer, crowding my space.
