LEVI
The pretty boss had a simple schedule.
He wasn't a morning person because he stayed up all night—shifting, turning, and pacing restlessly. His phone rang throughout the night, and he answered most of the calls. Then, at exactly three on the dot, his room stilled.
I didn't need to be told he was out then—so sound asleep that he didn't stir when I snuck into his room to turn off his devices. He stayed that way until 11.
It was fun watching him sleep—his brows creased, long dark lashes fluttering, and his lips bitten as if keeping sounds in.
I hated the temptation then, pleading with me to caress the dark, silky hair off his face or make just a little noise so those angry pupils would flash open at me, demanding I stay feet away from him.
It was fun in the way one found things fascinating. The toughness was so adorable, and it all trickled down to the reason I couldn't keep my head down—the reason I watched him go through papers and calls, his voice blank and sometimes exhausted.
So on the second day, when Torren called asking when I was going to get bored, I had one answer.
"Ruby is in charge. I'll be here for a while."
Then I ended the call before he could protest.
I had no clue how I knew that—when I had just one day left to prove myself necessary.
As if bent on proving I was useless, he stayed in drinking, not even sparing me a glance. Except sometimes, his neck would pull up in surprise when I refilled his glass, made him a new one when the last became watered down by the ice, or handed him fresh coffee each time he strolled down the stairs, glassy-eyed.
But those pupils—those deadly, pale beauties—held promises. Promises of how he couldn't wait to kick me out once all of this was over.
It felt like a challenge.
I grinned when he wasn't looking.
And by God, how I love challenges.
By the third day, when he strolled down the stairs, he was fully dressed—a white button-down shirt, without a single crease, tucked into dark suit pants.
And as my breath caught in my throat and my brows knitted, I wondered if this was just my usual conquest... because I had never been this fucking thirsty like if I didn't get a taste, I'd shrivel up.
What the fuck was this human?
Why didn't he seem like prey?
Ian took his coat from a house staff member, jogging down as though he had a destination. As though he was in a hurry.
Reaching the table, he searched. Then, narrowing his gaze at me, those pupils hardened.
My stomach fluttered.
"Where the fuck is the key?"
"Here, sir." I raised it, letting it jingle. "Boss Jayce handed it over last night."
He massaged his temple as though I was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Then, stretching out his hand, he growled, "Give it."
"No, Boss."
I bit back my grin as his eyes trained on me again.
This was fun.
I was having fun.
"Do you have a death wish?" His eyes blazed. "Do you want me to fucking kill you?"
Head tilted back, I held his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, sir."
For a second, I caught his fingers twitching toward the gun. Then he stopped and cursed under his breath.
"You'll be out of my life by evening. So have your fun while it lasts."
An hour later, he was in the backseat, a phone pressed to his ear, legs crossed over each other—a picture of perfection.
But I saw it.
The way his palm pressed into his lap.
"…I just need to know where Klaus is." He was saying.
Klaus.
The name struck something in me. Maybe it was the way his voice strained when he said it.
*Klaus won't let his brother hurt his booty call.* The guards had said.
Then why did he sound so petrified?
Still on the lost shipment thing?
"I've been checking on the Russians. I'll tell you when I get a lead." Ian massaged the bridge of his nose. "Just find a way to reach out to Klaus."
The call ended.
He exhaled heavily and shut his eyes.
I kept my eyes forward, only stealing glances at him a few times, drowning in the silence between us as he watched out the window.
Then, he broke the silence.
"How much does Jayce pay you?"
I hadn't thought about that.
"He bought me. I'm yours now."
That hardened expression faltered as though it was the last thing he expected me to say.
Then his jaw ticked, and he sighed. "What if I let you go? Took those shackles off your neck so you could leave right now instead of waiting till evening?"
Anything to get rid of me, huh?
I strangled the chuckle.
"I'm yours now, Boss."
"So you won't leave even if I give you freedom?"
"No, Boss."
He laughed. The sound was silk wrapped in steel. "I am a crime boss. You really think you can fight my enemies? You'll die."
"My life is yours, Boss."
There was silence for the rest of the journey.
But I still felt his stare on my back until I parked the car right where he wanted. Before a mall in a small neighborhood.
And before I could reach for the handle, his voice cut me off.
"Stay here. I'm going alone."
"Where are you going, Boss?"
"I don't repeat myself."
So, after a long pause, I pushed back into my chair.
Because, to be honest, there was a call I needed to make—one I didn't want him hearing.
He climbed out, coat flowing behind him.
Minutes later, I was speaking on the phone, constantly turning behind me to find him at the side of the road—a cup of ice cream in his hand, barely touched.
He had his glasses on, probably avoiding attention, but holy hell, that also didn't help.
He was like a fucking diamond in a sea of coal.
Passersby kept looking. Some gawked. A few teenage schoolgirls giggled.
He paid them no heed.
I knew it was his aura that pulled me in—the one that told me he was just a breath away from burying a bullet in my skull.
Done with the call, I turned back again, just in time to see him coming back, a hand in his pocket, making his way to the car.
So I kept my eyes forward, catching myself wondering how adorable it was that he had stopped to get ice cream.
I wondered what flavor.
Would I know if I tasted the flavor on his—
Fuck.
What the fuck?
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
Before the boss let me even get that close, I'd be six feet under.
But what's a demon without the craving for a little danger?
My phone rang snapping me from my glee.
I picked up immediately. "Torren?"
Torren didn't answer right away. Then he breathed out.
"Uhm, Levi, did you...uhm ...maybe run that plan with someone else before or after you ran it with me?"
My brows knitted. "No. Why?"
Some curses.
"Yeah…So uhm, Levi, I think someone kidnapped your boss before we could."
My neck snapped around.
The spot where Ian had stood was empty.
My jaw clenched—but—then relaxed.
My heart fluttered with dark relief.
A way to prove myself had just dropped before me on a silver platter. One I didn't even have to
plan myself.
"Wait a little while, Boss." I turned on the ignition, muttering to myself, "I'm coming to get you."