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potholes, I keep accidentally running into sensations of Lev.

The sight of him running in front of me, his movements smooth without sacrificing power. A predator, every movement natural and full of purpose.

Or the way I sometimes caught him looking at me. The way his eyes turned me into his prey.

The smell of him. Intoxicating. Overwhelming.

His voice; that deep rumble of unmistakable authority. Power infused in every word.

And most of all—his touch on my skin, the strength in his fingertips, noticeable but restrained, like he was holding back—whether for my benefit or his, I couldn’t say for sure.

I reread the paragraph from the constitutional law book.

Civil liberties are the foundation of the U.S. Constitution and the U.S. legal system operates under the unequivocal belief in its supreme law. It is a lawyer’s prerogative to work within these ideals and uphold the country’s deepest principles.

I sit up, running my fingers through my hair. It’s tangled from being wet. I imagine Lev’s hands in it. Yanking, teasing, owning.

“Do you think that being nice to the world will make the world be nice to you? Your morals won’t help you down here.”

Lev’s voice echoes in my mind along with a rattling sound. I look around. Wait, no, the rattling sound isn’t in my mind. I grab my bag, ripping more of it as I unzip it. My phone’s screen is glowing inside it. I pull it out.

A blocked number has sent a text.

Remember, we’re meeting up tomorrow morning. 7 a.m. We have to know each other well enough to convince your roommate and everyone at the gala.

Another text pops up as I finish reading.

Bring gym clothes this time.

My fingers start moving before I think about it.

I text back, no promises.

I wait to see if he responds, but the tell-tale three dots never appear. I feel my lips twist into a smile despite myself. I lie down, my cell phone resting on my chest. I shouldn’t be happy. He’s blackmailing me. He’s involved in something shady and enough of an asshole that his executive assistant is concerned about upsetting him.

I close my eyes. I play through a new fantasy, where I notice Lev watching me in Black Glacier. There’s nobody there but us. He pushes me up against the bar, his cock pressed up against my ass. He doesn’t say anything, but when he pushes inside me, there’s a crooning noise coming from my mouth.

It’s a perfect moment as he starts moving inside me, Lev no longer teasing, just owning me fully, the way I’m desperate to be taken.

Until I see Jeffrey Douglas’ decaying body on the other side of the bar.

My eyes snap open, arousal vanishing as swiftly as the steam in Lev’s shower disappeared when I turned it off.

I have no idea what happened to his body. Lev never mentioned it. Did he get the Bratva to help him? Do they know about me? Do I owe them now?

I tuck my hands under my head. I can’t close my eyes again. I stare at the wall, hearing the rain drill against the window. I wait for everything to shatter.

But the rain just keeps beating down.

8

Lev

The next day

After finishing my shower, I find Allison in the den, her freshly washed hair twisted into a messy bun. She’s playing with a deck of cards. Each card is painted with gold ink, depicting fifty-two “wonders” of the world while the two joker cards depict the galaxy.

Allison’s legs are tucked underneath the coffee table as she moves one of the cards. I sit down next to her. She’s playing FreeCell.

“Are you winning?” I ask.

“I think I’m proving that I’m not good at thinking long-term.” She scoops up all of the cards.

“You didn’t need to stop your game for my sake,” I say.

“You were being distracting,” she says. She sticks her tongue out at me. “Besides, we need to keep quizzing each other, don’t we? If anyone is going to see through this scheme, it’s Julia.”

“How about we do both?” I take the cards from her. “If we played some strip poker, we could learn a lot about each other.”

I could lie and say I was just trying to get her off guard. It’d be partially true. But I’ve fallen asleep, woken up, and showered wanting to experience her, so all that’s on my mind is getting her closer to that point.

“I’m sure that would be productive,” she says. There’s a faint pink tint in her cheeks, but overall, she’s less prudish than before. I might break her down yet. “But it might be better if we reveal more of our secrets than our bodies. How about truth poker? Every time one of us loses a hand, they have to truthfully answer a question from the other person.”

I keep my eyes on her. She wants me to answer her question about what crime I’ve committed. It’d be easy to get around. I’ve committed a smorgasbord of crimes. I could tell her about when I was a child and I stole groceries for my parents. I could tell her that when I was a teenager, I beat a man who grabbed my date between the legs. I could even admit to Black Glacier laundering some Bratva money. It would get her off my back and finally get her on hers.

I hand the cards to her. “You can shuffle.”

The first hand is easy. She has nothing. Her lower lip slightly presses up. I can only hope her father won’t be able to read her face as well as I can.

I flip over my cards. “Top pair.”

She tosses her cards down. Nothing. “Ask me.”

“How did you meet Julia?”

I thought this would be a simple question—some dumb sorority sisters or childhood playmates, but her lower lip presses up again. She takes a deep breath.

“It’s a long story.”

I collect the cards on the table, sliding them under the deck. She fidgets with her ear. Time becomes a test as she waits for me to move on and I wait for her to

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