Page 9 of The Payback

He lowers his face until he’s a centimetre away.

“Nod that you understand,” he whispers, tightening his grip on my throat and letting his bottom lip touch mine.

Shakily, I dip my head.

“Good wife.” He closes the distance and uses his hold to pin me in place and seals his lips against mine. Even with the raw carnality of our kiss, I feel the restraint in his shoulders when I grip him there.

No one has ever kissed me like this, taken possession of my mouth like they would die without it, and I never want it to end. His tongue traces my bottom lip, and I open for him.

A ding sounds from the lift, and just as quickly as he grabbed me, he rips his lips away and releases my throat. I take three deep breaths, and while my brain implodes, he steps out of the lift like this is a regular occurrence.

“Come.”

Fuck, if he kisses me like that again, I just might.

I stumble from the lift into a tastefully appointed foyer with bamboo flooring, pristine white walls, and black-and-gold side tables. Everything follows the same theme: black, white, and gold, but there are the smallest pops of colour in the artwork on the walls. I follow Dimitri as he turns right into a spacious living room.

“Your place is amazing,” I say, my first honest words since before the wedding.

He looks around as if noticing it for the first time. “The designer did a decent job. I just moved in a few months ago.”

Dimitri fixes himself a drink from a bar cart and gracefully sinks onto the couch. I continue wandering under his watchful eye. An open office area and a tucked-away bathroom are on the far right. I know this from the blueprints in the files, but walking through the home is far different from looking at a floor plan on a page.

Just like how seeing Dimitri in person for the first time was different from seeing his photo.

I stroll past Dimitri and towards the other side of the apartment as he types out a message on his phone. There’s a massive kitchen with a white marble island and a simple black table with two chairs. Facing east, a terrace spans the entire wall of the apartment, promising al fresco dining opportunities. I can’t help but admire the skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, so breathtaking and famous it’s impossible for me not to be amazed.

I know from my notes that when I go upstairs, I’ll find one primary suite occupying most of the top floor and a smaller bedroom with an ensuite on the north side for me. There’s also a half-sized balcony on the second floor because... well, why the fuck not?

Turning back to Dimitri, he’s holding his half-full tumbler and lazily swirling the glass between two fingers. The scent is terrible, but he sips it without wrinkling his nose.

I join him on the opposite side of the L-shaped couch. “So, what now?”

“Now we have a drink and go to bed.” Dimitri’s phone rings like a doorbell, and he looks down at the notification. Tension radiates from him as he looks at the screen and presses a button. “Or not. You have approximately fifteen seconds to get upstairs if you don’t want to see Nik,” he warns.

My brows raise. This is unexpected; his coming here has rendered my tracker useless tonight.

“He was supposed to be handling a job for me and finished early.”

Standing, I smooth my hands down my ivory dress. If there’s a chance we can use Nik, we need to take it, and I can’t let emotion impede that. Nor can I let Dimitri try to protect my former partner. I don’t trust my new husband, and Nik has just provided the perfect test for Dimitri’s loyalty to the plan.

I head towards the staircase beside the foyer and climb the stairs, my hand trailing along the matte-black railing. When I reach the landing, I turn and look over my shoulder. “Don’t blow this, Dimitri. There’s a reason you sent him away when we worked out the timing. Now is not the time for sentimentality.”

Dimitri just inclines his head, and a ding sounds from the foyer, signalling the lift’s arrival.

I gather the satin skirt of my dress and hustle up the rest of the stairs, keeping my heels from clattering on the wood below my feet. As soon as I reach the top, I crouch down to listen to their conversation from above.

The sound of boots on tile echoes across the floor as Nik enters the apartment. From here, I can only see his shoes and black trousers, and even though we were partners for a year, I’d swear even his walk differs from back then.

“Fancy a drink?” Nik asks as he enters the living room.

I fight an exasperated sigh.

The balls on this guy, offering a drink to Dimitri in his own home.

Nik’s accent is similar to Dimitri’s but having grown up in France before moving to Russia and then the US, it adds a layer to the cadence.

“What are you doing in my apartment on my wedding night? You aren’t my bodyguard anymore.” Dimitri sighs as if this is not the first time Nik has shown up unannounced, and I can imagine him already holding up his half-gone drink in a gesture of refusal for more alcohol.

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