Page 56 of Stolen Empire
"And then?"
"Then you let them recruit you. You play the desperate mark, someone willing to do favors for cash. Once you're in their network, you get closer to the people running the operation. And eventually, you get me the name I need."
I cross my arms, staring at the table.
"I'm not good at poker."
"You don't need to be good. You need to lose convincingly. Make them think you're in over your head, that you're desperate. That's the hook."
"And what if they see through it?"
"They won't. You've already proven you can handle yourself. The market job was clean, no mistakes. You know how to play a role."
He sets his phone down and moves closer, pulling out the chair across from me.
"But you won't be alone. You'll be wired, monitored the entire time. If anything goes wrong, I'll pull you out."
The thought of being wired, of having him listen to every word I say, every breath I take, makes my stomach clench, but I don't argue.
This is what I agreed to.
This is the job.
"When do I go?" I ask.
"Tomorrow night. I'll set it up."
I nod and push myself to my feet.
There's food on the counter—bread, cheese, sliced meat—but after that, my stomach is turning.
I'm not interested in eating right now.
"I'm going to my room."
Dimitri doesn't stop me, not even a peep of protest.
I just need to lie down for a moment to get a breather, so I walk down the hallway, passing his bedroom on the way to the guest room where I've been staying for the past week.
The door to his room is open, and I glance inside without meaning to.
The bed is unmade, the sheets tangled, and there's a shirt draped over the back of a chair.
It's simple, ordinary, but the sight of it makes my pulse quicken.
I think about how he fucked me, the way he pinned me to that wall, his hand fisted in my hair, his voice right in my ear.
The way he made me come so hard I could barely stand afterward.
I've been craving that rush ever since.
The feeling of being completely taken, completely controlled, the way he looked at me afterward as if I belonged to him.
It scares me how much I want it again.
That even now, my core is throbbing and feeling the familiar ache of arousal.
I'm still staring at the bed when I hear footsteps behind me.
