Page 37 of Born To Be Bad

“Are you saying that I should be giving the order today?”

“It’s an elegant solution,” says Blackwood. “He’s infamously hard to pin down, but today we know where he’s going to be. You may not get another chance like this.”

“He hasn’t shown any signs of retaliation.”

“Yet,” says Blackwood.

I’m hesitant to give the order. “I just…” The truth is, I’m not vicious enough to take a man out on the very day he’s mourning the death of his entire family. A family who is dead because of my bloody hand.

“Sir. I understand your reservations. I also know that the death of the Ivanov woman weighs heavily.”

“Mariya,” I say. Not that Ivanov woman. Mariya, mother to baby Alex.

Mother no more, because of me.

Orphan Alex, because of me.

“You didn’t kill her,” insists Blackwood.

“And yet she is dead because of me.”

“These things happen,” Blackwood says. “You know this as well as I do.”

But I refuse to think of Mariya as collateral damage, like litter blown away in the wind.

“I can’t give the order,” I say. “This feels rushed. I need to think about it.”

“You’re the boss,” says the intelligence agent. “But for the record, I think that you’re making a mistake. A mistake that could cost the safety of your family.”

Anger rises inside me like a plume of dark smoke. “Blackwood,” I bark. I’m tempted to remind him why the Moscow mission was compromised in the first place. “Keep your eyes on Kuznetsov. I want to know everything. If anything he does so much as hints at the idea that he’s planning retaliation, let me know.”

“There is no reality in which he will not retaliate, sir.”

I know he’s right, but I don’t have an answer for him. I end the call.

“Everything okay?” asks Ivy, putting earrings in. She’s wearing a long button-down dress that I would love to … unbutton.

“It is when you’re around,” I reply, pulling her toward me and kissing her. “I love this dress.”

“Thanks! I picked it up for two quid at a charity shop.”

“There’s one slight problem with it.”

Ivy steps away from me. “What?” She looks down to scan the fabric and then feels the back for an imperfection. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem with wearing fantastic clothes is that it makes other people want to take them off. Which kind of defeats the object of wearing them in the first place.”

Ivy’s eyes sparkle as she grins. “I see.”

“You’re lucky we’re almost late for dinner, or I’d show you exactly what I mean.”

“More like unlucky,” she replies. “Any chance you’ll show me your childhood room again?”

My cock twitches. “If you insist.”

Ivy adds a cardigan and some jangly bracelets to her ensemble. “Let’s take the limo.”

I laugh out loud. I can’t help myself. I shake my head at her. “‘Let’s take the limo’? What’s next? Buying bespoke blood diamond-encrusted designer handbags? Who are you even?”

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