I look over his shoulder as he cues up the security footage being broadcast from the body cams attached to the men I have stationed outside Ariel’s apartment.
Six feeds flicker to life, one for each of the Bratva soldiers guarding the block. I know the feeds by heart now. Every angle, fire hydrant, and bush lining the sidewalk in front of her building. Five of the feeds are empty.
I press my back against the brick wall of my building and watch Sasha’s black Aston Martin disappear around the corner. My fingernails dig semi-circles into my palms. Every nerve ending under my skin crackles like live wires, still sparking from that godforsaken fake baby and Sasha’s hands spanning my hips. All my oxytocin-drunk, oxygen-starved brain cells were screaming kiss me, kiss me, KISS ME—
“Fuck.” I p
