Valarie’s POV

Midnight.

The city was alive with its usual secrets and sins, but Valarie’s mind was consumed by one thing.

Him.

Sebastian Vasiliev.

His name burned in her skull like a brand.

She couldn’t forget the sight of Viktor’s mangled body, the message smeared in blood like some twisted love letter. She had killed men before, watched their life drain out of them without feeling a thing.

But this wasn’t a hit.

This was obsession.

And she was done ignoring it.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, hacking into old contacts, tracking down the one place Sebastian Vasiliev could be .

Found you.

Her lips curled into a snarl.

She grabbed her gun, still wearing the same dress that had driven him to murder tonight. The same dress that clung to her curves, the one he thought no one but him should see.

Let’s see what you have to say now, Vasiliev.

—

The warehouse was in a dead zone of the city, the kind of place where no one asked questions about the screams that echoed from inside.

Valarie stepped out of her car, heels clicking against the cracked pavement. The air was thick with the scent of oil, metal, and something darker.

A single dim light flickered above the entrance.

She didn’t hesitate.

The door was unlocked.

Inside, the space was cold and vast, crates stacked high, weapons and illegal shipments scattered in controlled chaos.

And then—

There he was.

Sebastian stood near a desk, rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, his forearms streaked with dried blood. He hadn’t even cleaned up after what he’d done.......

******* Sebastian’s POV

The scent of blood still clung to him.

Sebastian leaned back in his leather chair, his fingers idly tapping against the armrest. His shirt was still unbuttoned at the collar, the fabric stained with remnants of Viktor’s life.

He hadn’t even bothered to change.

He didn’t regret it.

The way that bastard had dared to touch her, dared to claim her, thinking he could have Valarie—it made his blood boil even now.

Sebastian had watched her all night, burning the image into his mind.

Her sultry eyes, the teasing smirk she gave Viktor, her toned legs exposed by that sinful dress.

The way her hips swayed in that club, a silent challenge.

She was playing a role.

But he didn’t care.

She shouldn’t have looked that irresistible.

She shouldn’t have let another man think he had a chance.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, rubbing his jaw. His mind replayed everything obsessively, his fingers itching to touch what he had only admired from the shadows.

That dress. That mouth.

That fire in her eyes.

The same fire he wanted to break.

But he hadn’t taken her. Not yet.

Instead, he had slaughtered a man for simply thinking he could.

Sebastian chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

Foolish bastard.

He reached for his glass of whiskey, about to take a sip—

Then—

BANG.

The warehouse door slammed open.

Sebastian’s head snapped up.

Valarie.

She stood at the entrance, still in that dress, her eyes alight with fury.

A goddess of war.

Sebastian felt his pulse quicken. It was Unexpected.

“Well, well,” he drawled, setting down his drink. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit, angel?”

She stormed toward him, the fire in her gaze making his blood boil.

“Cut the bullshit, Vasiliev,” she snapped, stopping just feet away from him. “I know it was you.”

Sebastian smirked. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Valarie’s lips curled in anger. “Don’t play games with me.”

She leaned in, placing her hands on the desk, her eyes locked onto his.

Sebastian’s gaze dropped.

Her dress had ridden up slightly, exposing more of those dangerous thighs.

He clenched his jaw.

“I want answers,” she demanded. “Now.”

Sebastian tilted his head, amused. “You barged into my warehouse in the middle of the night, alone, wearing the same dress that got a man killed—and you’re demanding answers?”

His eyes darkened. “Tell me, angel, are you tempting me on purpose?”

Valarie’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been stalking me.”

Sebastian chuckled, standing slowly.

“Stalking?” He took a step forward, forcing her to lift her chin. “That’s an ugly word. I prefer to call it…watching over.”

Her fists clenched. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

Sebastian’s smirk never faltered. “Would it matter if I did?”

Valarie inhaled sharply, her rage evident—but there was something else.

Something darker.

Something he wanted to exploit.

“You don’t get to make decisions for me, Vasiliev,” she hissed.

Sebastian hummed, stepping even closer.

“You think you have control here, don’t you?” he murmured. “But tell me, love—if you didn’t want me to obsess, why did you dress like that? Why did you let him touch you?”

Her breath hitched.

Sebastian’s smirk grew. “You knew I was watching, didn’t you?” His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s why you danced like that. Why you let him think he had a chance.”

Lie. But still Valarie swallowed hard, but she didn’t move.

She didn’t push him away.

Sebastian leaned in, his lips barely an inch from hers.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Tell me, Valarie…are you truly angry—or are you just mad that I didn’t take you for myself?”

She exhaled sharply, her pupils blown wide.

Sebastian smirked.

He had her exactly where he wanted her.

******** Valarie's pov:-

“I was wondering how long it would take you.”

His voice was smooth, unbothered.

Valarie’s jaw clenched. “You think this is funny?”

Sebastian turned, and her breath hitched despite herself.

There was something wrong in the way he looked at her. Like a predator drinking her in, like he was still thinking about the way she looked tonight—about the way other men had looked at her.

His silver eyes darkened, flickering down the length of her body.

She hadn’t changed.

And from the way his fingers twitched, she knew he noticed.

Valarie lifted her gun, pointing it directly at his chest.

“I should put a bullet in you for what you did.”

Sebastian smirked. Smirked.

Then, he took a slow step forward.

"Go ahead, solnyshko ( little sun) ," he murmured. "Shoot me."

She hated how her name sounded in his mouth—like a prayer, like a curse.

Her finger tightened on the trigger. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, Sebastian.”

A low chuckle.

"You think I killed him for you?" he mocked, tilting his head. "No, krasavitsa ( divine beauty) . I killed him for me. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of his filthy hands on what’s mine.”

Mine.

Valarie’s stomach twisted.

Before she could react, he moved—fast.

One second, she had the gun aimed at his chest. The next—

He had her wrist pinned above her head, her back pressed against a crate.

His breath was warm against her ear, his grip unbreakable.

Valarie’s heart pounded. “Let me go.”

Sebastian leaned in, voice low, dangerous.

“You knew I was watching, didn’t you?”

She stiffened.

“Wearing that dress. Putting on a show.” His fingers trailed down her side, slow, possessive. “You wanted my attention.”

Valarie’s breath hitched. Fury. Heat. Confusion.

“I should kill you,” she whispered.

Sebastian’s lips brushed her ear.

“You should.”

But neither of them moved.

*******