Page 98 of Bound By Revenge

I catch the brief, amused glance she shares with Dmitri, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to throw them both out the window. Just what I need—an audience for my slow descent into madness. I’ll let it slide—for now.

Dmitri’s laughtereventually dies down, replaced by the grim reality of what’s ahead. Hours of strategizing and shoring up defenses follow—I won’t make the mistake of underestimating McGuire again. By the time the plans are set and the men disband, the tension in my chest has eased—but only slightly.

I go looking for Kat, craving the distraction of her presence. After searching the penthouse and coming up empty, I call out for her. She answers from the kitchen, and I follow her voice—only to stop dead in my tracks.

The sight catches me off guard. My thoughts scatter. “You… waited for me to eat,” I blurt out like an idiot.

Kat shrugs, so casually, as if what she’s done is no big deal. She pours me a glass of wine—from my most expensive bottle, of course—and hands it to me. “Figured you’d be starving too.”

While I was holed up planning, she turned the kitchen into something straight out of a rom-com—candles flickering, lights dimmed, and Chinese takeout spread out like it’s a five-star meal.

“Did Vladmir make it back okay?” she asks, her voice soft but steady.

I nod, taking a sip of the wine she offered, but I can’t bring myself to say anything. My throat feels tight.

She exhales in relief, her lips curving into a small smile. “Good. Thank God. Now, come on,” she says, pulling out a stool for me. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

I do as she asks, and we eat in a comfortable, almost surreal silence. The only sound, aside from the occasional clink of chopsticks, is the soft jazz she’s got playing in the background. Now and then, my hand brushes against hers as I reachfor a takeout container, and her eyes meet mine—deep and impossibly blue, like the ocean at night.

She smiles, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to throw her onto the kitchen island and fuck her senseless.

But her day’s been hell, and the last thing I want is for her to feel drained—emotionally or physically—if we go there. Who am I kidding?Whenwe go there.

So I behave myself, even though every muscle in my body protests. I feel like I’ve been edging myself for days—constantly brought to the edge of relief, only to be yanked back down to earth, over and over again.

And yet, as she smiles and her fingers toy with mine, something strange washes over me. Not frustration, not desire—though that’s still there, simmering just beneath the surface. No, it’s something quieter. Something almost... content.

It’s unsettling. Katsoothesme, and I don’t know what to do with that.

“You do know I have a dining room, right?” I blurt out, my voice gruffer than intended. I don’t know how to handle this side of her—the softness. Feisty, sharp-tongued Kat I can handle. But this? This sweet, tender creature? She leaves me completely unarmed.

“I like the kitchen,” she says with a shrug, her smile warm and teasing. “Good memories have been made here.” Her eyes flick to the counter, and her foot slides up the inside of my thigh. My body jerks in response, and I nearly choke on my wine as I adjust my now-unbearably tight pants.

Her smirk is positively sinful.

With a sigh, I pull the handgun from the back of my waistband and set it on the island in front of her. “Here. I want you to have this.”

Her brows shoot up as she stares at the gun. She doesn’t reach for it right away, her confusion plain as she looks back at me.

“It’s untraceable,” I say, nudging it toward her. “Take it.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice a mix of surprise and hesitation. She picks it up reluctantly, holding it like it might explode in her hands.

“Because I want you to be safe. Do you know how to use it?”

Kat’s expression shifts instantly, her eyes narrowing in indignation. “Of course I know how to use it,” she says, offended. “Just because I don’tlikeguns doesn’t mean I don’t know how to handle one.”

Her sass should annoy me. Instead, it makes me smile. “Good,” I say simply. Before I can think better of it, the words tumble out. “I meant what I said. I’ll protect you with my life. My men will do the same. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re never in a position where a gun might be necessary. But trouble seems to follow you like a shadow, Kat, and I can’t always be there. I don’t want you relying on anyone else for protection. Whatever it takes to make sure you never feel helpless again, I’ll do it.”

She freezes, staring at me, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, her lips crash into mine. The kiss is scorching, her urgency lighting a fire under my skin. My groan escapes unbidden as she grips me tight, her body pressing into mine.

And just as abruptly as it starts, it ends. She pulls back, panting, her eyes blazing with heat and something I can’t name.

“What was that for?” I rasp, struggling to catch my breath.

She exhales sharply, shaking her head like she’s trying to clear it. “You’ve got to stop doing stuff like that.”

“Stuff like what?” My brow furrows as I try to follow her train of thought.

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