Page 232 of Legacy
Her eyes meet mine fierce. Ready.
“Who do we have, I need to know our alliances, who is good at what and lets devise this plan. We’re going to take them down. Together.”
***
The window is covered in black ink.
Lines like arteries. Circles like wounds. Arrows like war paths.
She’s turned my bedroom into a battlefield, and she’s not blinking.
Scarlet.
Christo.
She caps the marker, tucks it behind her ear, and crosses her arms as she studies the chaos we’ve created. And all I can do is watch her.
Not the window.
Her.
Her brain is moving at a speed I can barely keep up with—sharp, fast, lethal. Every time her eyes narrow, another piece clicks into place, and I swear my heart skips.
She’s breathtaking like this.
Terrifying.
Glorious.
Power incarnate in bare legs and one of my shirts.
And all I can think is how much time I wasted.
How many nights I could’ve had this.
Not just the woman who kissed me in the dark five years ago—
But this woman.
This weapon.
“We need surveillance on every Armenian asset,” she says, voice clear. “Clubs, docks, safehouses. I want eyes on all of it.”
I should answer, but I’m still catching up.
She glances at me swiftly. “We’ll need NovaRael. Fully activated.”
I blink. “That’s Santo’s. It’s not ready for—”
“Then get it ready.” She doesn’t even hesitate. “We don’t need perfect. We need functional.”
She turns toward me. Her hair spills over her shoulders, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
I missed all of this, I could have has this foryears.
The fire in her. The focus. The brilliance.
I let her slip through my fingers once.
