Page 115 of Inked Adonis

Twenty-four hours ago, I thought Samuil was gone from my life forever.

Now, my body still bears his mark.

I sigh and shrug my clothes back into place. The sheets are still warm from where Samuil slept with me tucked under his arms, but he rose early and kissed me goodbye with a whispered promise to be back soon.

Bodyguards will be with you today,he told me.They’ll follow you everywhere. And before you argue, know that I’m only doing it because I love you and want you to be safe.

Even to the bathroom?I asked.

Yes,Samuil answered.Even to the bathroom.

And sure enough, when I step out into the living room of my apartment, a tall man in a suit and crew cut is perched politely on my couch.

“Frederik, ma’am,” he says by way of introduction. He seems nice enough, but he doesn’t smile. His face doesn’t look like it knows how.

I nod back and pour him coffee that he accepts but doesn’t drink. When I’m caffeinated enough to face the day—and deal with the pair of spoiled dogs who’ve been following every step I’ve taken all morning—I put on my shoes and this makeshift little family goes trotting to the park.

A pleasant hour passes. The crisp October air bites at my cheeks as we follow our usual path, fallen leaves crunching under our feet.

It’s funny how much has changed and how much has stayed the same. A month ago, my biggest concern was keeping Rufus from terrorizing squirrels. Now, I’m counting exits, studying faces, looking for threats. The weight of Samuil’s world settles a littleheavier on my shoulders with each passing day. I can feel it, like Frederik is tethered to me.

Or at least, like he was. But when I peek over my shoulder, I don’t see Frederik anymore.

“Stealthy, that one,” I mumble.

Not that I mind. Out of sight, out of mind, right? The less I see of Frederik, the less I need to think about what Samuil said about his enemies wanting to kill him.

I scan the park again, slower this time. Couples on morning walks. A woman doing yoga by the water. Nothing obviously threatening, but my stomach clenches anyway. Samuil’s paranoia is apparently contagious.

I tug Rufus away from whatever tree-bound rodent has his attention and look for a bench where I can gather myself. Maybe I’ll call Samuil, just to hear his voice. To remind myself that all this insanity—the bodyguards, the danger, the way my heart races when he touches me—is worth it.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

The voice comes from behind me. I whirl around, barely stifling a scream.

A man leans against an oak tree, regarding me with eyes that strike a chord of recognition deep in my chest. He’s older—late sixties, maybe—but his shoulders are broad under his tailored suit. Salt-and-pepper hair swept back from a face that holds echoes of someone else’s features.

Rufus growls and tugs at the leash. “And isn’t he a beautiful boy, too?” the man remarks with a chuckle that raises goosebumps along my arm. “Though he could use some proper training.”

I pat Rufus’s side to hide my trembling fingers. “We’re working on it.”

“It takes a special kind of woman to control a beast like that.” His blue eyes—so familiar it makes my stomach clench—scan me from head to toe. “Then again, some beasts can’t be tamed, no matter how... dedicated the trainer.”

Is this guy hitting on me right now? I’m prepared to smile and thank him for the weird-ass compliment before running the hell away, but when our eyes meet, there’s something even more sinister there.

For reasons I can’t quite put my finger on, I look around for my bodyguard.

“If you’re looking for Frederik,” the man remarks, “he’s buying himself a pretzel across the street.”

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. “Y…you know Frederik?”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “I sign his paychecks.”

It takes me only a second to put two and two together. I should’ve known it the second I looked at him. The build, the blue eyes, the suit…

“You’re Sam’s father.”

“I thought I’d have to spell it out for you, but you’re quick.” He applauds mockingly. “Would you mind if we sit, Nova? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

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