Page 95 of Dirty Game
"Show meeverything."
I walk him through it, showing how Mikhail has been using Sienna's distraction to move military-grade weapons through Vancouver.
The shipments started three weeks ago—right when rumors about Varrick going soft began spreading.
Each shipment is larger than the last, building toward something.
"This one," I point to yesterday's manifest, "came through during the gala. While everyone was watching Sienna's performance with Dante, Mikhail was moving enough weapons to arm a small army through your territory."
"They're planning something," I continue, pulling up more documents. "This isn't just smuggling. This is preparation for?—"
"War." His hand cups my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone with a gentleness that contrasts with the violence in his eyes. "You brilliant, deadly thing. You just found their invasion route."
He kisses me hard, desperate, his mouth claiming mine like I'm air and he's been drowning.
When he pulls back, his eyes are black with something that might be pride or possession or both.
"This is how I destroy them," he says against my lips. "With your brilliant mind, finding what they tried to hide. With you beside me, being exactly what you are—mine."
Maria clears her throat. "I'll make coffee. Something tells me it's going to be a long day."
She leaves, and Varrick pulls me onto his lap, holding me against his chest like I might disappear.
I can feel his heart racing, his mind already strategic planning, but his arms around me are gentle.
"You're comparing yourself to her," he says. It's not a question.
"How did you?—"
"Because Iknowyou. Because you've been distant since the gala, and not in the way you're distant when you're scared. This is different. This is you thinking you're not enough."
"She gave you a son."
"Yes, and?" His arms tighten around me, and I feel the rage vibrating through him. "She’s using my child as a weapon. That's not a gift—that's another manipulation. Another transaction in her endless game."
"She's powerful."
"You're powerful in ways she could never understand. She breaks things. You fix them. She takes. You give. She uses violence because it's all she knows. You use it precisely, surgically, only when necessary."
"I'm damaged."
"So am I. We match."
I turn in his lap to face him fully, needing to see his eyes. "Do we? Because from where I'm sitting, you had this grand love affair with a woman who marked you permanently, who gave you a child, who?—"
"Whodestroyedme." His voice is flat, final. "What Sienna and I had wasn't love. It was mutual destruction. We were both so damaged, so angry, that we confused intensity with intimacy. We fucked like we were trying to kill each other because we were."
"And us?"
"We're nothing like that. When I touch you, it's not about destruction. It's about worship. When you give yourself to me, it's not because you're trying to prove something or win some game. It's because you choose to. Every time, you choose."
"I need to be useful to you. Need to be more than just?—"
"Stop." He stands, lifting me with him, and sets me on the desk, scattering the papers that just revealed Mikhail's betrayal. "You found millions of dollars in savings. You've identified moles in my organization. You just uncovered Mikhail's weapon smuggling. You're the most useful person in my entire operation."
"But—"
"And even if you never found another dollar, never uncovered another plot, you'd still beeverythingto me. Your usefulness isn't what makes you valuable. You are valuable. Period."
