Ivan
I couldn't lose sight of what was important. Nyra Carter was my enemy, and even though we had sex, that's all it was. Pointless sex. She didn't mean anything to me. This woman was a means to an end. Seducing her wasn't hard, and I knew it wouldn't be long before we were alone again.
It would take time and patience, but I'd get close to her, and when I did, I'd get my revenge. She had already confessed to me that she killed whoever got in her way. It was a confession. One I'd never be able to use and one I suspected I'd never hear again from her.
I had to be smart. As easy as it was for us to have sex, I knew it wouldn't be as easy to get close to her. Nyra's smart and meticulous. She didn't trust just anyone, and I knew she didn't trust me.
Whatever words were shared before and during the act were just false words with no meaning behind them. I claimed her, but it wasn't real. I wasn't a possessive man, and this woman wasn't mine. I didn't want her to be mine. I knew she didn't fall for it either, and the words we both spoke were just a way to enhance our excitement and need for each other.
Nothing more and nothing less. Whatever moment we shared right after was purely out of exhaustion. The lying and resting weren't real. It was hormones and endorphins. She uncuffed me right after, put on her robe, and then walked out of the room without looking back once.
After I had tossed the condom away and gotten dressed, I stepped out to see that the club was empty. Everyone was gone and there were two men waiting by the door for me to leave. Once I got in my car, they locked up and got into theirs.
That was a week ago. I hadn't reached out, and she hadn't either. I was still doing research, trying to find out all I could about her, but if some magazine or blog didn't post it, then I really didn't have anything. I left my department to hunt down this woman.
This unattainable and powerful woman, and for what? She killed Henry, yes, but would I ever be able to bring her to justice the legal way? Or would I have to deal with her outside the law? Would I stoop so low to that level?
I gave up my police gun, but I had my own gun in my safe. One I had on me for protection, but never used in my house. Now, all I could think about was killing that woman with it. Shooting her in the neck like how she shot Henry and watching her bleed out from it. I'm a detective, an officer of the law. I took an oath to protect and serve. I couldn't actually be contemplating killing this woman.
Could I?
Fuck.
I needed some fresh air. I slipped into my running clothes and placed my headphones over my beanie. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I stepped out of my apartment and started off with a light jog.
Twenty minutes later, I was in full running mode. My heart hammered against my chest, my muscles ached with how I was pushing myself, and I could feel every drop of sweat dripping down my back, chest, and neck.
My breathing was labored as I pushed myself even harder to run. I didn't have an end goal in mind. I just wanted to run away from my thoughts, but how far do you go to do just that? My music suddenly cut off, and I stopped when I got a call coming in.
I leaned against the wall and pulled out my phone to see an unknown number calling me. I wiped my sweat off with my other hand before picking up.
"Hello." I panted.
"Do you run because you like to or because you're punishing yourself?" She asked.
I looked around the park but couldn't see her. "You stalking me, woman?"
"Why would I be behind you?" She chuckled. "Keep walking." I did. I walked. "Warm. Warm. You're getting warmer." She sang. I walked through the crowd and families until I saw her sitting on the bench. "You found me." She winked.
I hung up and put my headphones around my neck. She sat there on the bench alone with her purse in her lap and a water bottle in the other. She looked too expensive sitting there all alone. Her hair was up in a perfectly styled bun, with her bangs falling down and framing her face.
Lace gloves took place on her hands and leather high boots took place on her legs. I could see the top of the cream-beige turtleneck hiding beneath the trenchcoat she was wearing. The brands she was wearing were posh, pricy, and even as extravagant as they were Nyra seemed so naturally put together.
She waved the water bottle in her hand, and I closed the distance to take it from her. I sat down next to her, and this woman smelled iniquitously and ambrosially sweet. I gulped the water bottle down in two gulps and crushed it before tossing it in the bin next to me.
"I haven't heard from you in a week," I said.
I tilted my head to look at her, and she kicked her leg over the other. "You sound bitter, Ivan."
Bitter and pathetic. I shrugged. "Maybe I am. You promised me a taste."
Becharming eyes shined as she cocked her head. "I did."
"Am I to expect another contract?" I asked and tried to get a read on her emotions, but this woman was locked up tighter than the casinos in Vegas.
Even if I knew every combination and could unlock every single one, I knew I wouldn't be able to find anything inside. She was that smart, that meticulous.
"Should you need another one to be with me?" She answered my question with her own. A tactic she did exceedingly well.
"No."
"Be at the club at ten. One of my men will pick you up from there." She stood up.
I looked around to see a few of her men around us and walking toward us. She spun around and placed her hand over my chest.
"Oh, and Ivan, you look really sexy when you sweat."
I reached for her wrist with one hand, and with the other one, I cupped the back of her neck. She tsked loudly but didn't make an attempt to get out of my grip. I brought the hand with her wrist down to the front of my shorts, and she pressed the palm there. My other hand went to the front of her neck as I collared her throat.
"You're not playing fair."
"Is that what it is we're doing, Ivan? Playing?"
"You tell me."
I ran my thumb across her very calm pulse, and that's when I felt something cool touch my chest. I looked down to see her gun pointed and aimed right there. When did she take it out? She was shiftier than I originally assumed.
Her reflexes were quick, and I wasn't even angry that she had a weapon aimed at me, more like impressed. I didn't drop my hand from her throat, and she didn't move the gun. If anything, she dug it deeper into my chest. I've had weapons pointed at me before.
I've dealt with bank robberies and hostage negotiations. I've been a detective for so long and acquired so much strength and courage, and knowledge over the years.
They all added to my skill set, yet this situation was different. Nyra wasn't a bank robber or a hostage. She was Nyra Carter. A woman who didn't like obstacles getting in her way and wasn't afraid to pull out a gun at me in the middle of a very crowded park.
I've never in my life been so hard for a woman before. She had a fucking gun aimed at my chest, and all I could think about was fucking her with it pointed at me. I wanted her to threaten me with it, to run the cool side of it across my chest and neck.
I've never felt like this before in my life. Nyra's female presence was overbearing and strong, clouding every other rational and sane emotion and thought.
Her smirk grew. "I don't play games, Ivan. Men are always such sore losers. Now, remove your hands like a good boy, and don't ever place them on me ever again without my permission." She said coolly.
I removed my hands and took a step back to see her place her gun back inside her coat where her holster must have been. Calm and collected, as if she didn't have a gun pointed at me, she reached for a cigarette case and offered me one.
I shook my head no and watched her place it in her mouth and reach for the lighter. I took it from her hand, and she placed her hand over mine as I lit it for her. I shut it and placed it back into her pocket.
"Do me a favor when you come to see me tonight." She took a deep inhale but kept her eyes on me as she exhaled. "Listen and obey. As I've told you before, I don't like obstacles."
"Is this where you ask me if I'm with you or against you?"
"It's implied, Ivan." I cocked a brow. "A man is never truly with a woman."
"Do you tend to generalize all men into one category?"
She didn't answer my question. Either she thought it was a senseless question or didn't care for it. I watched her nimble fingers covered in lace gloves as she flicked the end of the cigarette onto the floor.
"One last thing. Don't have dinner. You'll be dining with me."
A man approached her from behind, and I recognized him from the night at the club. He was the one she was whispering with that night, too. He leaned down to her ear and whispered something into her ear. She kept her eyes on me as she listened.
"My men will pick you up at the club at ten. Wait for them by the receptionist working the front desk." She said as she exhaled the last bit of smoke.
She dropped it and crushed it with the heel of her boot and then spun around. The men formed a blockade around her and behind her as they walked her out of the park and toward the parking lot.
I didn't run home but instead took a walk to think everything through. I was after this woman for what she did to Henry, for what she did to all the other people she killed without remorse or guilt. I knew she was capable of it, and I knew she'd never stop.
Nyra had connections, very strong ones, and she obviously had all the right people in her pockets. I needed to get her alone. Find a way to get her to trust me.
I could make up some story about losing my parents and get her to talk about hers. It was cruel and harsh and something I shouldn't have even thought of, but it might be the only way to get her to relate to me. I needed to find her weakness.
I needed to use it to my advantage. She was strong without her men, and I knew she was smart enough to have trained in combat. It wasn't like I doubted my own strength, but it was hard to fight someone that was protected and guarded 24/7.
Even without her men, this woman had her guard up always. It was rare that she broke this Nyra character, that her façade shattered long enough for me to see right through her. There was one thing nagging at me. It shouldn't be my concern, and yet it was.
Why did she have to cuff the men who slept with her? Was it simply about control and power? Or was there a darker secret at play here? Has someone hurt her before? Did someone touch her before? Was she assaulted? Molested? Raped?
None of those things were in her file, and there were no complaints or reports to lead me to think that any of those things happened to her. Either she didn't report it, or she dealt with it on her own. I wouldn't know.
The cuffs truly limited my way of touching her or using the situation to my advantage. I could carry a paperclip in my pocket and secure it in my hand when I stripped, but she always was so observant and watchful.
That and her men searched my pockets and patted me down last time, and I was sure they'd do it every time. A paperclip was out of the question, and the only other way to get my hand out was to dislocate my thumb.
I grimaced from the pain that would cause me. It would heal over time, but it wasn't worth it to hurt myself like that just for her. She wasn't worth it.
I bet she isn't. Is that why you were jealous when she brought up other men? Or why you gave her a nickname and demanded she's yours?
I berated myself and mentally shook my head. Words exchanged during sex weren't real. They were spur-of-the-moment words. Dirty talk wasn't real. It's just what you say to increase the other women's pleasure. To lull her into a fake sense of the truth and reality.
It wasn't real. She didn't mean anything to me and was just someone I would fuck repeatedly if it resulted in bringing her down.