Page 131 of Inked Adonis

His lips twitch. “You’re on crutches.”

“Crutch. Singular.” I wink, playing it casual. “And I’m fine. Really.”

I’m not fine. Nothing is fine. But I can’t do what I need to do if Frederik insists on tailing me around the penthouse.

“Does Samuil know?” His hand itches towards the phone in his pocket.

If I had to guess, I’d say Samuil doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. Frederik, helper that he is, probably offered to make that callhimself because he knew that Sam would come home to be with me.

“Already texted him.” The lie flows smooth as silk. “We talked an hour ago. He wants me to rest. Alone.”

Frederik’s mouth curves into something that might be a smile, if sharks could smile. “Of course. I’ll leave you to it then.”

He moves to the elevator with practiced efficiency. No questions. No security protocols. No genuine concern.

Just confirmation of what I already suspected—he’s been Leonid’s man all along.

The second the elevator doors close, my fake smile crashes. One obstacle down.

A million more to go.

My father and Katerina may believe the server is in Samuil’s office, but I happen to know it’s in our bedroom. It’s behind the kennel Rufus hasn’t used in weeks—not since he realized he could sneak up onto the end of the king-sized bed in the middle of the night if he waited until I was too tired to shoo him back down.

I also happen to know that Samuil trades out the servers regularly to minimize any possible security breaches.

And I watched him change the one in our bedroom one day before he left the country.

Moving the kennel is hell with one good arm and shit balance. But I manage to wedge myself between the wall and the oversized dog house, stretching until my fingers brush cool metal.

When I finally straighten up, server held triumphant above my head, I find myself pinned by two sets of judging eyes. Rufus and Ruby stare at me like they know exactly what I’m doing.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I lower the server, wrapping it in one of my sweaters. “I’m on his side. Always.”

The words don’t make me feel any better as I stuff the bundle into a tote bag and sling it over my good shoulder. I give both dogs a final scratch behind the ears, trying not to think about whether I’ll see them again.

The trek to the elevator feels endless. Each step is a countdown in my head—wondering if Frederik will return, if Sam will call, if my whole plan will implode before it begins.

But the elevator doors open to an empty lobby. No security teams swarm me. No alarms blare.

Just like that, I’m out. The great Litvinov fortress breached by a limping girl with a tote bag.

My father’s car isn’t in sight, but I doubt he’s far. A cab pulls up almost immediately when I wave. The driver’s eyes widen as he takes in my battered state. “Need a ride, miss?”

“Yes, please.” I slide into the backseat, clutching my stolen cargo. “Andropov Headquarters. South Loop.”

“Right.” He glances in the rearview mirror. “What happened to you?”

I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the seat. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

And even if he would, I’m done letting other people write my story.

46

NOVA

Ten minutes into my ride, I text Hope:Watch my grandmother. Whatever you hear about me in the next few hours, keep her safe.

Hope’s reply is instant:Nova WTF???

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