He disconnected without another word.
The faint smirk faded.
Shadows swallowed the last trace of amusement. Moonlight carved his features into something colder—his eyes dark and bottomless.
Over 4,500 miles away, Volkov sat rigid at his massive mahogany desk, sunlight cutting sharp lines across his office.
The phone remained pressed to his ear, knuckles white. Every word Damien had said replayed in his mind, curling like smoke he couldn’t shake.
That infuriating calm. That precise, lethal teasing.
It made his chest tighten.
He slammed the phone down. It shattered across the polished floor.
Sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the flush of rage.
Volkov rose, pacing, fists clenching.
That smirk. That tone.
It wasn’t just control.
It was possession.
Every wo
