When I went to the States to pay Falcon a visit, I found out about what the Sekt had been up to across the pond. Had I been a better man, it would have made my skin crawl. I knew Bastian Kingsley came from money; his family were oil tycoons. He was going to marry Katia Von Ives, another socialite. It was no secret Katia loved her drugs, and that her family renounced her. Nothing was ever heard of her again. Kingsley moved heaven and earth to find his fiancée until he found her a few years ago in New York.
Too bad the poor fucker had to watch her die before his eyes. Daphne took the broken, rich boy and turned him into a monster.
Was I jealous of their relationship? Fuck yeah, I was. It wasn’t long after we spent a week together and she gave herself to me like she’d never been with anyone before, and then after that she was seen with that arsehole.
“Who’s there?” a voice rang out.
Walking with my hands raised and the cigarette still in my mouth, I said, “Relax, mate, it’s just me.”
My tone was calm and my smirk full-on as I saw the arsehole who worked for Sergio pull his jeans up. There were scratch marks on his arms, and I pretended not to hear the sobbing that was happening on the other side of the tent.
“She’s fine,” the soldier said with a heavy English accent.
Knowing I wasn’t going to get anywhere, I gave him a nod, then turned around and walked away. I had an inkling of what they would do with the mafia princess, especially after seeing Damian here.
The Sekt was up to something, and I planned to find out what. Making Daphne mine would just be a bonus. She was all the things that were wrong with the world, but as long as she was by my side, I didn’t care.
I found Bastian sitting down in a chair, keeping a vigilant eye out while he drank water. When I scanned the area, I couldn’t find my filthy Petal anywhere.
“Daph let you off your leash?” I asked, taking a chair across from him.
He smirked, then took a sip of his water.
“I go where Daphne goes. She likes to keep me close.”
Bas would get no reaction from me. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something that might compromise me.
“You think you’re so special, don’t you?” I leaned back in the chair and let my eyes wander to the people packaging the kilos of snow. “Daphne will tire of you eventually. You aren’t the first guy she’s fucked.”
Bastian leaned forward. “But I won’t be last either.”
If I had anything to do with it, I would be the last. Daphne and I had been playing this cat-and-mouse game for far too long. We were the masters of time, having an affair that spanned years, in various countries, but it wasn’t enough to get the bitch to bring her walls down.
Betrayal lingered; it was past time she let hers go.
“Where’s Damian, I haven’t seen him?” I asked instead, aware that Bastian was gauging me. I knew he would report this conversation to Daphne.
Good. Let her know I was coming for her.
“He left.”
“Where? Back to Russia?”
Bastian stood up, pulling back his sleeves. Despite the warm weather, he was wearing a long-sleeve. I saw theSthat was tattooed on his wrist.
“That’s Sekten business.”
I grinned at him to not say more. I watched him walk away, irked at the fact that he was on the damn organization. Sekten, or Sekt as people had started to call it, was as elusive as the fucking chupacabras. It was founded in 1922 by spies from all over the world, but it was said that after the fall of the Russian Empire, some of the most prominent families wanted revenge and funded it. I was invited, but the vote had to be unanimous for you to get in. I was off by one vote. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she didn’t want me there, not when I had seen the show she put on for me.
In my peripheral vision, I saw her walking next to Julian. She was beautiful, the type of beautiful men would go to war for. Long, shiny black hair she kept braided to the side. Pale face and cherry lips with a bone structure models would kill for. She was short but petite, and the tight clothes she wore accented her trim waist and full breasts.
When she turned to the side, I saw the smile she gave the cartel fucker. He might see it as sweet and flirty, but to me, it was like poison.
Daphne didn’t smile; she only did it when she wanted to get her way. Over my dead fucking body before she got her way with him. She started playing with the tip of her braid, but I knew better. She had a blade stashed in there. The curve of her arse was prominent with the way the sun was hitting her.
Every part of her was a fucking weapon. One way or another, she was going to bring a man to his knees, whether it be by lust or by blood.
Fuck it.