Page 38 of Bound By Revenge

Her reply is instant.

I will. Take care of yourself, Kitty Kat.

After promising to stay in touch, I set my phone aside and steel myself for the day ahead. I don’t know what Nik has planned—or even what his deal is, honestly. Does helikeme? Does helike me not? And yes, apparently, I’m back in second grade.

One thing is clear: I need to get the upper hand, and fast. He’s already proven how mercurial he can be, and the last thing I need is to be at the mercy of his mood swings. Like I don’talready have enough to deal with. No, I need to level the playing field—and I need to do it now. Even if it means seducing him.

I get ready in record time—not that I have much to work with. The closet in my cell-slash-bedroom is totally empty, and there’s no chance I’m wandering around the penthouse in Nik’s boxers.

So I retrace my steps to his closet, keeping an ear out for any sign of him. Fortunately, the coast is clear. I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, both way too big for me, and head to the kitchen. It's so early, I doubt I’ll see him for a while.

In my experience, handsome billionaires rarely keep business hours. He wasn’t in his room, so who knows where he is or what he’s up to right now. Working out? Walking his hellhounds? Or maybe the same thing he does every night—trying to take over the world?

To my surprise, leaning against the kitchen island, I find a tall stranger, coffee mug in hand.

“Morning,” he says, nodding as he takes a sip. “You must be Katherine Devereaux.”

“I must be. And you are?”

“Dmitri. I’m Nik’s friend.” He smiles, all dimples, offering me his hand. Stunned, I stare at it for a second, then shake it. His hand is warm, rougher than I expected.

“And by friend,you mean henchman, of course,” I say.

He laughs—a deep, genuine laugh. His pale blue eyes crinkle as he smiles, dimples appearing on his cheeks again. He shakes his head, his dark blond hair bouncing. He’s young, maybe in his mid-twenties. He’s also extremely tall, towering over me by more than a foot.

"You're funny," he chuckles. “No wonder Nik likes you.”

“He does? That’s news to me.”

A grin spreads across his face. Even though he’s a few years my junior, I can’t deny Dmitri ishot. His boyish good looks arecute and disarming, but his broad shoulders and lean muscular frame tell me he’s all man. Sure, he doesn’t make me all weak in the knees like Nik, but I can still appreciate that he is a fine-looking man.

“Well, let me put it like this—people who steal from Nik don't usually get invited to his hang out at the penthouse with him. That much I can tell you.”

“You and I have a very different definition of the word ‘invited’.”

He shrugs. “Fair enough. But my point stands. You’re getting off easy.”

“I hate to sound like a broken record, but clearly, our definitions of the word ‘easy’ don’t match.”

“Looks like we’ll have to agree to disagree,” he says. “Coffee?”

I sigh and sit on a kitchen stool. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He pours coffee into a mug and then gives it to me. A pastry box sits on the counter next to where Nik plopped me down last night before shoving himself between my legs.

Before I can even ask, Dmitri grabs the box and puts it down in front of me on the kitchen island. I waste no time opening it, marveling at the different flavors of donuts and bagels. I grab one of each.

“So, how long have you and Nik been partners in crime? Excuse me—I mean friends, of course.”

He lets out a chuckle. “I've known Nik for practically my whole life.”

“What’s that? Sixteen years?”

A smirk plays on his lips as he sits on a stool opposite me, the same one Nik occupied last night as we started playing footsie.

“Cute. I definitely see why he likes you,” Dmitri says.

“So you keep saying.”

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