Page 114 of Santa Daddy
Every scar, every bullet, every sleepless night. Worth it for this.
“Konstantin,” she whispered against my mouth, and it hit harder than any shot I’d ever taken.
“I need you,” I said. The words ripped themselves out before I could censor them. “More than anything.”
More than power. More than revenge. More than breathing.
She answered with her mouth, with her hands in my hair, with the way she opened for me when I slid inside her, burying myself in heat that felt more like home than any building my name was on.
Here in the cold, with no witnesses and no walls, nothing existed but the way we fit.
This wasn’t about leverage or control. Not about winning or surviving another day on top.
This was the one piece of humanity I had left, and I was clinging to it with bloody fingers.
“Dani,” I breathed against her throat as I moved, slow at first, then harder when her nails dug into my back. “Look at me.”
She did.
Half-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed pink from cold and arousal, hair wild, snowflakes melting in the strands.
Mine.
I used my free hand to find her clit, circling, pressing. Her body tightened, breath coming in sharp, broken gasps.
“Oh God,” she panted
23
THE HUNTER’S PROMISE
KONSTANTIN
The cabin door clicked shut behind me, soft as a trigger pull in the pre-dawn dark.
Inside, Dani paced the small space like a caged animal, too wired to sleep after Alexei’s warning. Outside, the air bit at my lungs, sharp with pine and cold.
Mine to protect.
Mine to lose.
Alexei waited near the tree line, a shadow among thicker shadows. Years of working together meant I could read him from twenty yards away. Shoulders tight. One hand hovering near his weapon. Eyes sweeping the forest in slow, methodical arcs.
Bad news.
“How deep?” I asked. No greetings. We were past that.
“Deeper than we thought.” His breath fogged the air. “Maksim’s not just grabbing at your chair. He’s aligned with Reznikov’speople, the Chechens, and some of Medvedov’s crew. They’re calling it a coalition.”
“They’re not just here for your title,” Alexei added. “They want everything with your name on it—buildings, routes, the girl. Clean slate.”
A coalition.
Against me.
Ice slid through my veins.
This wasn’t just family betrayal. This was structure. Multiple fronts. Coordinated pressure designed not just to hurt, but to erase.
