Raze paused, only for moment, and without facing me, uttered, “Durov. Alik Durov from Brooklyn, New York. Revenge. Kill.”

Icicles ran down my spine as he hissed out that name like he was spitting out poison, and I ran out of the room, ignoring Viktor who was leaning against the wall just outside, and slammed the door of my office. Turning the key in the lock, I made sure no one could come in.

Reaching into my desk, I grabbed my cell and called Talia… which went straight to voicemail.

When the beep sounded, I hushed out, “Talia! Call me back. It’s urgent. I need to talk.”

Slamming my cell closed, I sat behind my desk, mind starting to replay what had just happened. Raze was disturbed. Cold. Unfeeling… And I was insanely and irrevocably attracted to him. His fresh snow smell, his rugged and raw face, his ripped and cut body… the muscles, the tattoos… the way he growled when he talked, but…

It was the eyes. I was losing my mind over those eyes.

And he wanted revenge on my fiancé. Knowing Alik, it could be for any number of things. Alik had built up an army of enemies over the years.

What if he killed Alik? What if this year Alik lost?

I waited for the sorrow, the pain, but I only felt numb.

“For fuck’s sake, Kisa!” I reprimanded myself, feeling turned on from thinking about Raze, of impossibilities.

Yet still I found myself wrenching open my desk’s top drawer. Digging under the files, my hand found a cold edge of metal. Making sure the blinds were closed, I pulled out the old tarnished frame and stared at the picture inside, running my hands over the glass.

The picture was perfect: two children, one girl, one boy, one summer beach. The boy’s arm draped over the girl’s shoulder as they smiled for a close-up. Her eyes were light blue, his eyes the richest of brown, but the left iris was smudged with the girl’s light blue.

They matched.

God made them this way so they would recognize themselves as meant for one another when they were born, so they would always find each other no matter where they were on Earth.

I looked up and stared at the door, picturing those same eyes on a killer in another room in my gym… Raze? Luka? A warm feeling washed over me at the possibility. But no, surely it was…

Impossible?

It was impossible… right?

My cell phone rang. Talia!

Flipping the cell open, I sighed and said, “Talia… I think I fucked up.”

Chapter Ten

RAZE

My muscles ached with the weight of the dumbbells, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

One…

Those eyes.

Two…

That smile.

Three…

That face.

Four…

Those tits.

Five—

Throwing the heavy dumbbells to the floor, I stomped to the bench, slipped on my knuckledusters, and walked to the leather-bound post. I worked at my strikes, that fucking euphoric feeling of the spikes slicing into the post taking over.

I visualized a torso, a face, the fucking smug-ass face of Alik Durov, but that woman, the boss of The Dungeon, her scent wrapped around me, tugging at my attempt to concentrate. Finally, I stopped, and leaned on the post. I shook my head as flashes of images raced through my mind. Sand, hot weather, my lips touching someone else’s. But I couldn’t make out faces, couldn’t remember… Fuck, I didn’t want to remember!

I had one goal. One chance to kill Durov, on my terms, in my arena.

Stepping back, I raised my fists, but Volkova’s face was there again, in my mind, not moving from my fucking mind. My cock hardened. I was being driven insane with the need to come.

That woman.

Since I’d seen her getting attacked, I’d had to act. I’d had to save her. An instinct, a gut feeling forced me to snap that cunt’s neck.

And she ran this ring? She fucking ran this death ring!

I groaned. Those nipples, those firm tits pushing against her top. Throwing my head back, I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d never had a woman. Never sank into a woman’s hole. Never kissed a woman’s lips. But her lips, I wanted wrapped around my cock.

Fight. Focus on the fucking fight! I kept telling myself, but my cock was throbbing, aching. The new tattoo, the sign of my recent kill, pulsed. I’d killed for her. Spilt blood for her… a stranger, an unknown.

A frustrated roar built up in my throat. Drawing back my fist, I plunged it into the post, which rocked at the force of my blow. Leather ripped and the wood beneath splintered.

Ripping off my knuckledusters, I stormed into the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I leaned against the wall and ripped down my shorts. Grabbing my hard cock, I started pumping hard, gasping at the sensation.

I closed my eyes. Volkova’s face was there, her pink lips parted, her blue eyes watching me, her nipples hardening, her thighs clenching and heat rising on her fucking beautiful face.

I growled as I worked myself harder, hips swaying back and forth as I pictured bending her over, ripping off her panties, and sinking my rock-hard dick into her ass. It was warm and wet and choked my dick like a vise.

I huffed out a breath at the building heat climbing up my dick. My balls tightened and, slamming a clenched hand against the wall of the stall, I came hard, chest sweating, breath panting fast.

I opened my eyes, steadied myself, and wiped my hot cum from my hand. I left the stall and noticed Viktor hovering near the punching bag, a curious look on his face.

Walking to the bench press, I straddled the bench and lay back, gripping the barbell. Viktor cleared his throat.