Page 78 of Inked Athena

“Someone doesn’t know how to give a lady her privacy,” she remarks lightly.

I hold out a hand. My dick is aching.

“Come over here,” I growl.

She just shakes her head and smiles that devil’s smile. “Can’t, I’m afraid. I told you—I’m going downstairs to help Mrs. Morris.”

I groan in agony. “Helpme.I’ve got a raging hard-on and the world’s worst hangover. You’re not really going to leave me like this, are you?”

She finishes tying up the bow of the dress and walks over to me, leaning in seductively as her breath tickles my face. “After what you put me through last night,” she says in a low, raspy voice, “you deserve to suffer with both.”

I try to grab her, but she dances away from me, laughing wickedly.

“Nova…!” But she’s already blown me a kiss and disappeared through the door. “Goddammit.”

I could rub one out, but it wouldn’t do a damn thing.

So I haul my ass gingerly into the shower, cursing at the water pressure but reveling in the heat. It soothes all the tortured knots in my back, and by the time I’m heading downstairs for some coffee, I feel somewhat human again.

As I approach the kitchen, I can hear the insistent yapping of the puppies. Apparently, Nova left them in the kitchen to make sure I really feel my headache.

But before I can even cross the threshold, the lead of my private IT team walks through the arched passageway that leads to the library.

“Morning, boss!” Adam’s voice bounces off the vaulted ceiling with demonic enthusiasm.

I resist the urge to sink my fist into his open-mouthed smile. It’s not his fault that I chose to drown my control issues in an entire bottle of Macallan last night. Though his volume control could use some work.

“Adam,” I acknowledge, far less brightly.

“I’ve got good news for you.” His grin stretches wider, if possible.

Must be why he’s fucking shouting about it. Christ, did Nova brief everyone on optimal torture techniques?

“What is it?”

He hands me a crisp sheet of paper with the Litvinov crest pressed on top as letterhead. “See for yourself.”

I scan through the intel report, then read it again, my hangover momentarily forgotten. The words swim into focus: location coordinates, bank transactions, communication logs.

All pointing to one person.

I lift my eyes to Adam, keeping my voice carefully neutral despite the adrenaline suddenly coursing through my veins. “Is this information legit?”

“I’ve triple-checked everything.” He winks. “We finally have solid intel on Ms. Alekseeva. And here’s the kicker: that little social media scheme Ms. Nova and her friend put together? It created exactly the digital breadcrumb trail we needed. Your wife-to-be has better instincts for this than half our security team.”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“Are you saying that it actually worked?” The words come out rough—part disbelief, part something dangerously close to admiration.

While I’ve been playing chess, Nova’s been changing the entire game.

The realization hits me like another wave of cold loch water: I’ve been so focused on protecting Nova that I never stopped toconsider she might be capable of protecting herself—protecting us both—in ways I never imagined.

Maybe it’s time to rethink more than just my drinking habits.

He nods, barely containing his excitement. “I was able to track Katerina’s IP address from the email address she responded with. Amateur mistake—it wasn’t even encrypted.”

“Fuck me,” I murmur, scanning the intelligence report again. The coordinates mock me from the page. All this time, all these resources, all my careful planning… The best IT team in the world at my disposal, surveillance networks spanning continents, decades of Bratva connections…

---