Page 12 of The Payback

Elsa darkens the phone screen and shoves the device into the bedside drawer.

“Lies.”

She swallows. “It’s not a lie.”

“How old is she?” I ask instead of arguing. I spent the wedding and reception studying Elsa’s face. The same cheekbones, eye shape, and bottom lip—this is Elsa’s daughter. Perhaps her other features were from the man jumping in the video, but his face was cut off. That slope of the nose is familiar, though.

“She’s one.”

The thought of her round with my child instead of the other man’s sends a bolt of lust through me despite the impossibility of it all. The mental reminder of the circumstances makes my fists clench. I need to know one thing, but I hear footsteps on the stairs and form a plan to assure both me andhim.

Elsa’s still facing me on the bed, so I take her by the throat, guiding her backwards until her head hits the pillow. Her eyes flare as I move over her, and her pulse quickens under my fingertips.

“Are you married?” I grit out before Nik can get close enough to hear.

Her breathing is short and quick, and the tip of her tongue touches her bottom lip. I hear the faint click of the door to the suite as Nik enters.

“Only to you.”

Careful footsteps enter the suite.

“Are you involved with anyone else?” The thought—the mere idea of it—is driving me wild with jealousy.

“No.”

“And you are mine.”

“For now,” she answers in a gasp as my hold turns claiming.

I ease the pressure, and my eyes dip to her lips. “We have company.”

Turning my head and feeling Elsa follow my gaze, I find Nik leaning against the wall. “Satisfied?”

“For now,” he echoes. After a long look at Elsa in my grip, he turns and exits the room. He was supposed to be away, and now he’s here, in my home, in his bedroom next door, while I put the pieces together to walk away for good.

Elsa reaches up and pinches a nerve between my shoulder and neck. I fight the urge to let go, and my grip remains tight, even as pain lances through me.

“What the fuck?” she whispers.

“Nik lives here.”

The string of swear words that leaves Elsa’s lips would make a nun blush, but it just makes me smile. “I need to teach you some Russian. We have better curses.”

“What do you mean heliveshere?”

I don’t answer; I just let the silence hang between us.

“You havegotto be kidding me. How is this going to—”

I muffle her words with a hand over her mouth.

“Shh, Sabre. He’ll hear you.”

She blinks twice, and I remove my hand.

Her voice is low as she asks, “He can hear everything?”

I nod. There’s no carpet in this penthouse aside from the rugs in front of the fire, and more than once, I’ve heard Nik from his own room.

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