Page 11 of Stalk Me

“And?”

“Never mind. Let’s go.” I loop my arm through hers. “You’re buying, though, as penance for earlier.”

“Fair enough.” Tash grabs her clutch. “Though I make no promises about behaving better in the future. Someone has to keep your life interesting.”

The cool night air hits my face as Tash and I exit the museum’s grand doors. My skin still burns where Nikolai touched me, and I fight the urge to look over my shoulder.

“Your car or mine?” Tash digs through her clutch for her phone.

“Definitely yours. I took a car service.” The idea of being alone right now makes my stomach twist.

A prickle runs down my spine—that distinct sensation of being watched. I scan the crowd of departing guests but see no sign of his imposing figure.

“God, I made such a fool of myself in there.” I press my palms to my heated cheeks. “Everyone probably saw us on that dance floor.”

“Please.” Tash waves down her driver. “Half those stuffy socialites were probably taking notes. It’s about time someone livened up one of these events.”

But my mind replays every moment—how I melted against him, the way I practically ground against his thigh like some desperate...

“Stop that.” Tash’s sharp tone cuts through my spiral. “I can hear you overthinking from here.”

“You didn’t see how I acted.” My voice drops to a whisper. “I completely lost control.”

That sense of being observed intensifies. My eyes dart to the museum’s dark windows, the shadows between parked cars, the security cameras mounted discreetly above.

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” Tash slides into her waiting town car, patting the seat beside her. “When’s the last time you actually experienced something real?”

I slip in beside her, grateful for the tinted windows hiding me from imagined observers. But even as we pull out of the parking lot, I can’t shake the sensation of being under surveillance. My fingers twist in my lap as I remember how many influential people witnessed my display.

“Hey.” Tash squeezes my hand. “Whatever you’re thinking right now? Stop it. You’re allowed to be human.”

But am I? After letting Nikolai Ivanov crack my perfect facade in front of everyone who matters in this city, I’m not so sure.

5

NIKOLAI

Ilean back in my leather chair, eyes fixed on the screens before me. Sofia moves through her apartment with unconscious grace. The hidden cameras capture every detail—how she lets down her hair while checking her phone.

I watch her car’s marker pulse on the screen, digitally confirming her position. My fingers play across the desk’s polished surface, appreciating how thoroughly I’ve infiltrated every corner of her carefully ordered world.

A knock at my office door breaks my concentration. I minimize the feeds with practiced efficiency.

“Enter.”

Dmitri steps in, followed by Erik’s solid presence and Alexi’s restless energy. My brothers are each uniquely dangerous.

“The board meeting starts in ten minutes,” Dmitri says, straightening his already perfect tie. “You haven’t reviewed the numbers I sent.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “The deal is solid. We move forward as planned.”

Alexi drops into a chair, feet on my desk until Erik’s sharp look makes him reconsider. “You’re distracted. Not like you to skip the details.”

“My attention is exactly where it needs to be.” I catch Erik studying me with that sniper’s focus of his. Of my brothers, he’s the most observant. The most dangerous to my current preoccupation.

“The Italians are pushing back on the shipping routes,” Erik says quietly. “We need full focus on this.”

I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “The Italians will fall in line. They always do.”

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