Sitting at my desk I stare at the guns, sitting back in the foam case where I placed them as if they were made of fucking glass when we got back. Nursing my third glass of whiskey, I can't help staring at them.

Boris left to head home hours ago, and Aleksandr left after a completely silent drive back without a single word. I couldn't go home.

My brain won't shut off.

I don't know how to process everything I learned at Mel's earlier today. In fact, I'm not processing it now. I feel like I've gone completely numb, burying my worry, my frustration, my confusion in my favorite whiskey as I stare at the gift that sits on my desk.

'He's in love with you.'

The words echo through my mind like a bad remix.

Frustration is bubbling under my skin, and I slam back the last of the glass in one swallow as I stand. Grabbing my jacket and keys, I head to my car and put the address Mel gave me into my GPS. I'm not sleeping tonight anyway, and I need something to do.

I really need someone to kill, but that's not on the docket today - so this will just have to fucking do. The echo of her words in my head are the only sound I hear the entire drive as I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.

'He's in love with you.'

It's not until I'm pulling into the drive of the condo that my brain turns back on, and I'm able to push everything else aside.

Having a task to focus on is the only thing to keep me sane right now. There better be something here to help me find him or so help me I'm going to lose my shit.

I'm standing in front of the door and immediately irritated when I realize there is no keyhole, only a finger print pad. Out of irritation and frustration I put my thumb to it, knowing I'm just going to have to turn around and-

Click.

The fuck?

Trying the door knob, my jaw is on the floor when it swings open.

How?

When I walk in I can immediately tell Leo is one of those people that drive me nuts... and it makes me chuckle.

How can someone who thinks through so many plans so painstakingly be anything but a clean freak?

The condo isn't dirty, but it's clear that his need for organization and attention to detail doesn't extend to his clutter. There isn't much here, but books are stacked in haphazard piles on every surface, papers scattered across the small coffee table, and even an empty coffee mug on the end table beside the couch. I note that the sink doesn't have a ton of dishes and the floor is clear, so he may be a clean person but certainly not a tidy one.

The safehouse is small, but cozy with the kitchen and living room open, and a small doorway beside the television stand that appears to lead to a small hallway. I head toward it instantly knowing the panic room is what I'm looking for, and I stop in the doorframe of the room he clearly made his own.

The sheets are messed and there's a pile of dirty clothes in one corner.

I can't help shaking my head and chuckling - he's going to give Aleksandr an eye twitch, I can already tell.

I head into the closet without letting my eyes linger on anything else, and find the small hole I'm looking for in the back corner of the wall. The lock pops and I pull the door forward, irritated at the way I have to squeeze my frame through the small gap in order to get into the cramped space.

I pause for a moment when I see the sleeping bag on the floor. Did he sleep in here too? Why would he do that?

The night he got the text flashed in my mind, and I grit my teeth when I realize... I bet he slept in here that night waiting for the all clear.

I'm going to kill Jason fucking Aire.

Shaking my head, I note the shelf that takes up the end of the space and head toward it. Three phones are charging on the shelf... and a letter?

I pick up the envelop and my breath hitches when I lift it and see it's addressed to...

'My Favorite Russians.'

Opening the envelope so fast I nearly tear it in half, I quickly unfold the single sheet of paper inside.

Ivan & Aleksandr,

If you're reading this, shit went south and Rossi captured me. If that happens I know Mel will reach out once she gets word we pulled the job together. WKTA may swear neutrality, but she's a bit of a softie for me. Don't tell the others, but I think I'm her favorite.

The second she talks to you, she'll put two and two together - she's annoyingly brilliant like that. I'm banking on her sending you here to find my phones and files on Rossi when/if the trail dries up in the search for me.

The files on Rossi will be useless - he's too clever to keep me somewhere tied to him. He's been after me for too long to make that kind of mistake.

I have a dormant tracker in the heel of my left foot. It has no metal and no signal until it's activated, so it should pass through any scans and searches. It can only be activated using a device hidden in the picture frame beside my bed. Mel can get it for you.

To track it, reach out to Connor. His info is in the black flip phone I left with this letter - he knows I'm an assassin, but doesn't know I'm Die Dame. He calls me 'Killer.' Call, don't text. Don't kill each other.

I promise to bake you cookies if you rescue me,

Dame

Holy. Fucking. Shit. It took a solid 60 seconds for my brain to catch up with what I just read. Then I leapt into action, grabbing all three phones and the letter before dashing back to my car.

I am a bit irritated I grabbed the standard SUV, not wanting to draw attention, instead of my bike or a faster car... but I can't dwell on that now. I drive straight back to the office, dialing Mel on the way.

"Hello?" Mel answered, sounding cautious and drowsy... did I wake her?

"Dr. Jones," I rushed, "Did you know Leo has a tracker?"

"What?" her voice is suddenly alert and clear, "No, what are you talking about?"

"Leo has a dormant tracker implanted. There is apparently a device to activate it in the picture frame beside his bed at his home. I need you to retrieve it and bring it to me - don't activate it yet."

"Where did you learn this?"

"There was a letter waiting for me at the safehouse. Leo was prepared to be captured by Rossi... and I have questions about why he thought that Rossi wanted him, but they can wait for later. He assumed you'd remain neutral if he got captured, but left behind a letter for me in case he needed rescuing. It gave me everything we need to find him."

The silence on the other end lasted so long I glanced at the console, confirming I hadn't lost the connection, before finally, "Mel? Can you get me the device?"

"Yes," she murmured, shock clearly evidence in her voice, "It must be less than a year old. He needed some scans done last year, and I did a full body scan to be safe. We usually recommend against those, but I was going a bit overboard at the time."

"Apparently it's both dormant and non-metal, so not sure if you'd have found it even with that. I have no idea when he got it or who put it there, but I do know he split up the device to activate it and the method of tracking it. He was very careful to ensure that it couldn't be used against him."

"Okay. Shit. This is a lot, but for right now let's focus on getting him back and then we can dissect the insanity of what you just told me. You said there's a device in the picture frame beside his bed?"

"Yeah, that's what the letter said."

"Okay... admittedly, I don't go to his place often, but the last time I was there he didn't have a single photo in his house. I'll figure it out though, and I'll contact you. It'll have to be tomorrow afternoon, I have surgeries in the morning. And before you jump down my throat, I know it's not ideal, but we aren't going to find Leo any faster if we don't get rest and manage our day jobs. Go home, get some sleep, and I'll call you tomorrow."

Before I could argue I heard the click and the console went dark to let me know the call had ended.

Irritated, but with more hope than I've had in weeks, I changed directions and headed to the loft. My home sits at the top of the apartment building I purchased next-door to my company headquarters. The entire top two floors are reserved for my home away from home, though tonight I don't stop to admire any of the state-of-the-art technology and appliances throughout the open floor plan.

The sound of my footsteps echo throughout the space as my dress shoes meet the dark, hardwood floors. Without the lights on, the lights from the city flooding in from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room provide the glow I need to navigate down the hall and to my bedroom.

When I purchased this building, I selected a design for my spaces from a simple selection offered - not caring enough about the details beyond knowing I wanted various shades of grey to be the hallmark of my space. I find the dark grey walls, black bedding, and medium-grey hardwood floors calming. There are few decorations - only those added at the time of the redesign - but the space is clean, tidy, and the space feels unimposing as I strip down to my boxer briefs and crawl into bed.

My mind doesn't shut off quickly or easily though as I steady my heart rate and allow my thoughts to wander. I think of the night with Aleksandr and Leo at the club... the way Leo bounced on my cock on the couch while we took turns sucking off Aleksandr.

I remember the way his eyes hesitated when I took the belt off his neck and wrapped his wrists - finding it amusing he was more afraid for his hands to be bound than to be choked out - before he submitted. The soar of endorphins at his trust made me hard as a rock.

We took Leo in every position we could manage in that space before we finally collapsed into a pile in the floor - exhausted and spent.

I'd been sad but unsurprised when we woke up holding each other... no sign of our little assassin. But when I found the note that held a phone number my heart fucking exploded.

He didn't want to care... it was clear he was trying desperately to stay away, to resist whatever the fuck is developing between the three of us... but he is failing. He failed that night too when he gave us a way to contact him. Even if he left, I have a feeling that number wasn't going to be left behind.

'He's in love with you,' Mel's voice whispers in my mind.

Love... a ridiculous word in our world. A risk. A weakness.

I left my father behind in Russia along with my three surviving siblings. After my mother and my brother, younger than me by less than two years, were killed by a rival - we knew we needed to be smart. That meant sending me out of the country as soon as I was able. It wasn't a hard or emotional process, and my father didn't even see me off at the airport the day I left.

Perhaps my parents loved me, in their own way. But mostly, I am an heir - one they needed and raised for my purpose from the moment I could open my eyes. My older brother was always destined to inherit the Russian sect, I was destined for the US, and my younger brother had been destined for the European sect. When he died, my father and uncles argued incessantly about whether the next in line was my sister, the next eldest, or my youngest brother. My sister proved her worth in the end, but it was an uphill battle for her - sexism and shit.

The three of us heirs grew up fast - it was that or die - training to take our mantles up early after the assassination. My youngest brother began a hellion phase with us all gone, and has only recently outgrown it. He has started growing into a true Abramov under the tutelage of my eldest brother. We love each other, yes, but in many ways our relationships are more business than familial. I would kill for any of them, die for any of them... but if we aren't talking about the business, we aren't talking at all.

Coming to the US was important for Aleksandr. He knew he was gay from a young age, and I was the first and only one he ever told. We both knew what that meant for him if anyone found out. I was in my mid-20s when it was time to move to the US, and I had insisted he come with me.

It wasn't long after we arrived that we got drunk after a job went south and explored something we didn't know we needed together. Our love is unconventional, but I would say I love him. In my own way. I've never used the word, nor has he - it's unnecessary - yet it is true. I've feigned interest in others since to keep the rumors at bay, but no one else has held my eye and certainly not my heart...

Until now.

Die fucking Dame.

I'll never forget the way she walked around me as I sat in that chair, waiting for Aleksandr to arrive and kill the back-stabbing Columbians that decided they deserved more than they paid for. I couldn't believe they were going to off me right there in the open in that alley - even if it was where the entrance to their weird ass secret lair was.

Aleksandr was taking too long... and I was starting to make my peace with the reality he was going to show up and find my cold body strapped to that chair.

When I heard the door open behind me, I had no idea what was happening. Then I heard gun shots, and I had looked down instinctively to see if it had been me that was shot. I'd missed it when the bullet hit Matias as a result, but I saw when his body slump to the ground at my feet.

All in a couple blinks of an eye.

When a woman sauntered in front of me, ignoring me as if to emphasize I was not a threat, I had initially had rage bubble inside of me and battle the relief and shock that hit just as hard at the same time.

When she'd met my eyes and asked me if I was Russian in her horrible American accent, the suspicion and worry had hit me again like a fucking lightening rod. Had I traded being a hostage for the Columbians, who I at least understood, for some crazy woman I had never seen?

When she explained what she was going to do, I hadn't believed her... why the fuck would she let me go? It didn't make any sense. But when she straddled me, completely unbothered by my existence as if I was just another fucking chair to sit in

My reaction had been primal.

Want.

I had wanted her unlike anything I'd ever wanted before.

She'd hesitated when she unlocked my hand, and I knew she meant to get up before she did it. I'd silently prayed she wouldn't though... that she'd stay in my lap. And she did. Despite her best judgement she had taken a risk, and I'd be lying if I said kissing her and grinding into her while she held that knife to my throat wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced.

Right up until she was choking on my cock while I held her leash just a bit too tightly and eye-fucked Aleksandr while he plowed into her. That takes the fucking cake.

It makes sense now that Leo is trans... no woman has ever really turned my head, and Aleksandr's never even glanced at a woman. Yet we both knew something was different about our little assassin... from the very beginning, we knew she was different.

So finding out she wasn't a she made a lot of sense.

My little assassin. Die Dame. Red. Leo.

I'm fucking addicted, slowly becoming obsessed. Every touch... every word... every glance we've ever shared. It's intoxicating, and now that I'm without it I'm going through withdraw.

I refuse to lose him.

I'm coming for you Leo, and once I have you I'm never letting you go.

--

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