Dominic

The study smelled of Russian leather, and the faint trace of oak smoke from the fireplace. I sat behind the wide mahogany desk, reviewing encrypted financial reports under the glow of a single brass lamp. The numbers were clean and precise. Exactly as they should be. The Vancouver port expansion was bleeding money. Three containers were delayed again, this time by customs. My fingers moved across the keyboard with mechanical precision as I rerouted the next shipment through Seattle instead.

Business first, always, and yet, my mind kept drifting to soft brown eyes and trembling hands clasped behind a slender back. I clenched my jaw. Irritating.

A firm knock broke the silence.

“Enter.”

Nikolai stepped inside, closing the heavy door behind him with a soft click. He stopped exactly three paces from the desk, as always. His posture was rigid.

I didn’t look up immediately. “Speak.”

“The Vancouver issue is contained for now,” he reported. “We lost forty-eight hours, but the product is moving. The Italians are testing us again in the east end. Two of our runners were warned off their usual corners last night.”

I finally lifted my gaze. “Send Markov. Tell him to be educational. No bodies unless necessary.”

Nikolai nodded, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he placed a new folder on my desk.

“Her daily report.”

I opened it. Photographs. Jasmine walking home with distant eyes. Jasmine touching her wrist absentmindedly at a café with her friends. Jasmine sitting at her family dinner table, quiet and tense, while her father watched her too closely.

“She found the note,” Nikolai said. “Read it several times before hiding it. She’s distracted. Her father is noticing. He questioned her behavior at breakfast.”

I closed the folder slowly and leaned back in my chair. The leather creaked softly beneath me.

Nikolai’s voice tightened. “You said this was only curiosity. Now you’re sending her personal notes and demanding hourly updates while we’re dealing with the Italians and port reroutes. This is no longer casual, Pakhan.”

I steepled my fingers, studying him with cold detachment.

“No,” I admitted. “It isn’t.”

The words tasted foreign. I had spent years carving emotion out of my decisions. This organization ran on discipline, not desire. Yet this quiet nursing student had managed to insert herself into my thoughts between logistics and executions.

“I should cut her loose,” I said flatly.

Nikolai’s shoulders relaxed slightly, hopeful.

Instead, I continued, “But I have decided not to.”

The air thickened.

“She is the daughter of the man who has been chasing us for four years,” Nikolai reminded me. “If Detective Lin even suspects—”

“He won’t,” I cut in, voice low and precise. “Not until I allow it. For now, she is useful. Her exhaustion makes her pliable. Her conscience makes her predictable. And her surrender…” I paused, remembering how beautifully she had fought herself on her knees. “Her surrender is genuine. That kind of trust is rare. I intend to cultivate it.”

Nikolai met my gaze. Few men could hold it for long and he managed longer than most. His scar tightened along his jaw. “You’re risking the entire organization for a girl you met in a club.”

I rose from my chair and walked to the window, looking out over the dark, heavily guarded thirty-five acres.

“The organization has survived worse risks.” My tone was ice. “Continue the surveillance. I want to know the exact moment her father moves from suspicion to action.”

Nikolai stood there a moment longer, clearly biting back more arguments, before giving a stiff nod and leaving.

Alone, I returned to my desk. I minimized the port reports and opened the folder with Jasmine’s photographs again. Curiosity had become something sharper, more dangerous. I had told myself I was simply observing an interesting weakness. Possessing without attachment. That had always been simple. Jasmine was beginning to blur the line. I held her bracelet between my fingers. She’d ask for it soon enough.

I picked up my phone and sent a short message to the man watching her house: Increase night coverage. Report any movement from the detective.

Then I closed the photos and returned to the Vancouver logistics. Business first. But for the first time in years, business was no longer the only thing occupying my mind.