Page 102 of Malicious Claim

What a narrow escape. Father always taught me to listen to my instincts and it never misled me.

Nicolai's piercing gaze swept over me in a flash, his expression unreadable. "Where were you?"

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "Getting some fresh air. I told you that I couldn't sleep."

He frowned, eyes flicking toward the way I had just emerged from. "Fresh air?"

I met him dead on. "Yes."

He didn't utter a word for a long while. The tension lingered. And then, at last, he nodded. "Makros wants you back in the room."

I fought to stay calm. "Of course."

As I went by him, I could sense his eyes still on me. Watching. Gauging.

I had to be more vigilant.

Makros was summoning me but I had to make a sharp sidestep to return the key card I'd taken out of Stefanos.

Stefanos's room smelled of whiskey and smoke. The faint light cast long shadows, and the warm glow of embers in the ashtray showed that he had just fallen asleep.

Just perfect.

I walked in quickly, my hand sweeping across the clutter on his desk. Several glasses, cigarette butts, an open drawer half-way. A mess of someone who had gotten drunk to sleep.

I pulled out the keycard and placed it near the edge of the nightstand. Not too obvious, not too hidden. Somewhere he'd see it and assume it had fallen out of his pocket or he'd forgotten it there in sloth and as a precaution, I tipped over the glass of whiskey beside it. The alcohol spilled onto the nightstand, soaking into the edge of the card.

There we go, intoxicated and irresponsible. He would never question anything.

A low growl escaped Stefanos, and I stopped.

He shifted slightly, head tilting to the side, but breathing was still steady. He was sleeping and snoring softly.

I straightened up, edging back toward the door.

It had been another close call.

With a final glance around to make sure I hadn't accidentally left any sign of my return, I crept out of the room and shut the door behind me.

Now, I just had to act like nothing was wrong.

My heart still raced in my chest when I entered Makros' bedroom.

The moment I opened the door, Makros' voice cut through the shadows.

"I woke up and you weren't there."

His voice was smooth, but there was something cutting to it—something cruel, something possessive.

I looked into his eyes, feigning indifference as I approached the bed. "I couldn't sleep."

He looked at me from where he sat, legs apart slightly, hands on his thighs. His shirt was unbuttoned, his chest muscles hard underneath, and his hair was rumpled slightly. It was the kind of thing that made my stomach do flips.

How his appearance and good dick kept getting in the way of my revenge was absolutely appalling.

Makros didn't quite rush to me at first. He cocked his head instead, his eyes narrowing. "And just where did you go?"

I smiled, forcing a gentle, amused smile. "For a walk."

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