Page 74 of The Payback

I won’t sleep tonight. I know that already and sigh deeply, resigning myself to yet another sleepless night. Using a rag, I wipe away the paint on my hands and use the utility sink in my private room to wash away the stains.

A swirl of colour circles the drain, taking some of my tension with it.

Tossing the rag into a corner, I slip through the panel, close it, and enter my office, where I straighten the painting over the access pad. The lift chimes with its arrival, and Eleanor and Nik’s voices are muted as they step into the penthouse.

Their heads are bent together, Nik whispering to Eleanor as they walk across the foyer. A bolt of jealousy courses through me at the sight of them. Why do they look so fucking comfortable together?

“So?” I ask, causing Eleanor to snap her head towards where I lean against the bannister.

Her eyes trail down my body, and I pray I haven’t missed a paint splatter. I’m not ready to share this with her, and I don’t know if I ever will be. My work feels like that last piece of me that hasn’t been put in a file or aired for all the Bratva to see.

“You’re casual today,” she comments, waving her hand at me. I look down at my jeans and dark-blue Henley instead of my usual suit.

There’s a spot of black paint near my knee, but it’s so minuscule I doubt she notices. I make a mental note to keep a spare set of clothes in the studio in case this happens again. The timer on my phone rang ages ago, but I was so wrapped up in continuing that I silenced it and kept going.

“Working from home. So?” I repeat, my patience growing thinner the longer the two stand hip to hip. I want distance between them. I want Eleanor to look at me with anything other than the revulsion she’s made clear since I took care of Alexei.

“Your uncle is an asshole,” Eleanor says, “but I don’t think he’s the one who ordered the hit.”

My brows raise. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s bound and determined that I give you an heir—so much so that he offered to be the one to impregnate me and keep the secret. Why would he be pushing for that so hard only to kill you? It makes little sense to offer that only to want you dead at the same time. Unless he plans to kill you and claim the baby as his.”

“He offered towhat?” I grit out between clenched teeth.I’ll kill him myself.

Nik steps forward and puts a hand against my chest, stopping me from advancing. Without notice, I pushed off the railing and stalked closer to Eleanor.

“Breathe,” he says.

I swat his hand away. “Back the fuck up. There’s nothing left to explain. He dies.”

“No.” He moves his head, blocking Eleanor from me, which only enrages me further. Who is he to keep my wife from me? “Why is your first reaction murder?”

“Why isn’t it yours?” I roar.

“Nik,” Eleanor says softly, her fingers resting on his shoulder. He melts into her soft touch, letting her direct him out of the way and controlling him like a puppet master. When she sees my face, a small smile graces her lips. “He offered. That doesn’t mean I’ll accept, Dimitri. Nik is right. Breathe. It might give us leverage if we need it.”

“Sergei had no right to say that shit to you. To offer that. I’ll kill him.”

I move towards the lift behind them, ready to take off with no plan, intent on gutting my uncle, when a heavy and unexpected weight drops onto my back.

Eleanor’s forearm comes around my throat as she clings to me like a koala and puts me in a chokehold. “Just stop for a second! Jesus, Dimitri. Stop!”

I’m still headed to the lift, but her arm tightens around my neck, and blackness creeps in on the edges of my vision. Still, I trudge forward, putting one heavy foot in front of the other.

Eleanor becomes a dead weight, pulling tighter on my neck until I can’t breathe, and my head goes light.

“Dimitri, please. Stop.” Her words trickle into my slowing brain, and the anguish in her voice causes me to falter and slow my steps. “There you go.”

Her arm relaxes a fraction, and I gulp in air, my thoughts coming into sharper focus. Then, I do what any sane—or insane—man would do and lunge for the lift.

Nik’s leg comes out of nowhere, tripping me up with a swift kick to my knee, knocking it out from under me, and I go down like a tree, Eleanor clinging to my back the whole time.

With a shriek and a curse, we tumble down, and I break our fall with my hands, the sharp slap of skin on marble resounding through the room.

“Fuck,” I groan as I twist to the side so Eleanor can move off me.

But she doesn’t.

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