Page 38 of Brutal Monster
But here, with him, I can surrender—just for moments, just at the edge.
My release crashes over me like a thunderclap, a powerful force that sends my vision into a blinding white haze, making my body shudder uncontrollably around him. He is not far behind, reaching his own peak just moments after, his forehead resting gently against mine, our breaths intertwining with the warm steam that swirls around us.
For three eternal heartbeats, we remain intertwined, a fleeting moment where reality is held at bay, suspended in time.
Then the strategist in me returns.
"We need to move the security briefing earlier," I say, unwrapping my legs from his waist. "If Emilio's men are in Cancún, we can't afford to wait."
Vanya's laugh is sharp and genuine as he steps back. "Only you would follow orgasm with operational planning."
I reach for the shampoo, all business now. "You would do the same."
"Perhaps." He takes the bottle from me, pouring some into his palm before working it into my hair. His touch is surprisingly gentle. "But I might wait until we're out of the shower."
I close my eyes as his fingers massage my scalp. "Time is a luxury we don't have."
"Five minutes," he counters, turning me to rinse my hair. "Five minutes where we're just Vanya and Inez, not the heads of rival organizations about to merge through matrimony."
I consider this as water sluices away the suds. "Two minutes," I counter.
His smile is predatory. "Three, and I'll tell you what else Mikhail discovered about Emilio's movements."
My eyes snap open. "You're withholding intelligence?"
"Strategic timing," he corrects, reaching for the conditioner. "I know how your mind works, Inez. Give you all the information at once, and you'll disappear into planning mode for hours."
He's not wrong. I allow him to work the conditioner through my hair, using the moment to study his face. The scar along his jaw seems more pronounced in the shower's harsh light. I trace it with my finger, feeling the ridge of damaged tissue.
"Three minutes," I concede. "Then full disclosure."
"Agreed." He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me again, but differently now—less sexual, more... something I'm not ready to name.
We stand there under the spray, my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I count the seconds in my head, already formulating questions about Mikhail's intelligence, already planning countermoves.
But for precisely three minutes, I allow myself this—the illusion of normalcy, of safety. The pretense that we're just a couple preparing for their wedding, not two killers joining empires.
The timer in my head hits one hundred eighty seconds.
"Time's up," I say, pulling back. "Tell me what Mikhail found."
Vanya steps out first, grabbing two plush towels from the rack. He hands one to me, then begins drying himself with efficient movements. I watch his scars appear as he wipes away water droplets—each mark a story, a victory, a near-miss.
"Mikhail called back a few minutes ago with additional information," he says, wrapping the towel around his waist. "Emilio has moved his timetable up. We know of the one probably on his way here, but he's bringing in a crew from Guadalajara—professional hitmen, not his usual street soldiers."
I freeze mid-motion, towel pressed against my stomach. "When?"
"Three days. Maybe four." Vanya leans against the counter, eyes tracking my movements as I resume drying off. "They're coming in separately, different flights, different hotels."
"How many?"
"At least eight that we know of." He reaches for a comb, running it through his wet hair. "Mikhail is sending six of our best. They'll arrive tomorrow."
I wrap my towel around my body, tucking the edge in securely. "Not enough."
"No," Vanya agrees. "But it gives us breathing room. Time to identify and neutralize the mole."
I move to the mirror, wiping away condensation with my palm. My reflection stares back, calculating, cold. "We can't wait for Emilio to make his move. He'll have the advantage."
