Empire of Sin (Empire #2) by Rina Kent

I sit in my dimly lit studio apartment. It’s shabby and old, but it’s not in a bad neighborhood, so I don’t have to worry about unwanted attention.

My typing slows and I stare blankly at the hundreds of pages open on my laptop.

Is this how I’m going to be for the rest of my life? On the run, obsessed, and always scared?

The thought of Babushka being hurt forces my hands to carry on the spying mission. If any of them find out what I’m doing—

I shake my head, refusing to think about the consequences. It’s not that I’m doing something wrong; I’m only trying to protect myself and my grandma.

The doorbell rings and I freeze, then immediately close my laptop.

Holy shit.

They found me.

“Deep breaths,” I whisper to myself in a shaky tone. “They can’t find me. I used a firewall, I blocked my IP address. There’s no way in hell they can find me.”

Unless Kirill and Aleksander suspected something and followed me?

No, no. They would’ve been here yesterday if that were the case. Hell, they would’ve grabbed me by the hair in the restaurant and dragged me back instead of letting me go.

But what if Kirill told Adrian?

Shit. He’s the mastermind of hacking. He could’ve broken through my firewall and intercepted my IP and found me. He’s here now and will—

“Anastasia, open up, I know you’re in there.”

My breakdown pauses at that voice. The beautifully accented voice that I would recognize not only from behind closed doors but even if it were coming from underwater.

A weight slowly lifts off my chest and vanishes into thin air as I head to the entrance.

I stare through the peephole to make sure it’s him.

Sure enough, Knox stands there, impatiently waiting for me to open the door, judging by that hard look in his eyes.

And it dawns on me then.

Knox is here. In front of my shabby apartment, and he wants me to let him in.

I have to take a moment to breathe.

To not let all the gloomy feelings from earlier manifest in front of him.

When I feel marginally better, I open the door.

No amount of moments or deep breaths could’ve prepared me for how sinfully attractive he looks.

For the way his hair is styled and how his clothes are impeccably in place, even after a whole day at work.

It’s unfair.

So, so unfair that he’s physical perfection no one else can match.

It’s also unfair that he was my first, and now, I can’t see any other man but him. The bar is just too high for anyone else to reach, not that I would allow them.

He ruined me.

Corrupted me.

And I keep wanting more.

“How did you find out where I live?” I whisper.

“Your résumé.”

“Why are you here—”

My words end with a moan because he’s grabbing me by the throat and slamming his lips against mine.





18





KNOX





There are times when I can control the shadows and times when they control me.

This is the second instance.

I haven’t been able to get rid of them since this morning. They’ve been looming and spreading over me until their gray clouds are the only thing I breathe, see, or touch.

That’s how I found myself at Anastasia’s flat.

I resisted not seeing her, especially when I’m in this state. I don’t let anyone see me with my shadows, not even my twin sister.

But I desperately needed the distraction. I needed to feel the heat of her body and hear the tiny gasps she makes when I take her by surprise.

Like now.

She lets out small noises in my mouth as her fingers latch to my side. I kick the door to her flat shut and back her up with my hold on her neck. Her pulse throbs beneath my fingers as if she’s caught by the same adrenaline wave that’s holding me hostage, and I grab her throat tighter until I’m her only anchor.

And she’s mine.

Because even now, I’m still surrounded by those shadows, and they’re vicious and harsh, needing a pound of flesh.

Hers.

She makes them feel bare, and they don’t like that. They don’t like being exposed or weakened or even seen.

And she did see them. Today. Back in the office. When no one even thought twice about my state of being, she was staring at me funny, as if she could make eye contact with them.

Sense them.

Drag them the fuck out.

So this is vengeance. This is their way to taint her, tarnish her, and ruin her so badly that she’ll no longer dare to make eye contact.

That she’ll run the other fucking way when she notices them.

My tongue thrusts to the roof of her mouth and I kiss her with a savageness that hardens my dick and twists my fucking spine.

But I don’t stop.

Not when she gasps.

Not when she trembles.

And definitely not when her feet fail her with my relentless movements.

I hold her upright by the throat, squeezing until she opens her mouth wider, probably to breathe. But I claim that mouth, I suck on her tongue, then nibble down so hard, I’m surprised I don’t taste blood.

Her moans and whimpers are music to my ears, an aphrodisiac to my fucked-up shadows.

And they want more.

So much bloody more.

When she loses her footing again, I let her fall to the wooden flooring, but I hold her tighter to lessen the impact.