Nikki swore under her breath as she locked the door behind her, determined to keep him out.
There was no way she was letting him near her again, not after last night. She didn't do repeats, and her body was still sore to prove it.
His office was pristine, annoyingly so. She could've done this quietly, but where was the fun in that?
Her heart raced as she yanked open drawers and rifled through the neatly arranged files.
She was a daredevil, thrill was the lifeblood of any mission.
Her fingers skimmed over a folder labeled The Mafian Case. Perfect.
She snatched it up just as his knock echoed through the room, a thunderous demand that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.
"Nikki, open the door," came his low, furious growl.
She grinned, biting back a laugh. "No, Daddy." Her voice dripped with mockery.
She flipped through the file briefly, confirming her suspicion, it was Antonio's case. Jackpot.
"I'm going to break this damn door down, you little brat!" he thundered, his patience wearing thin.
Her heart thudded in exhilaration. "No can do, Mr. Scary Pants," she quipped, dragging a table toward the window.
The knocking stopped. A quiet moment of dread filled the air before the door crashed open.
He stood in the doorway, eyes blazing, just as she pushed the window open.
Without hesitation, she leapt out, clutching the files and still wrapped in the damn bedsheet.
The ground hit her hard, sending a jolt through her already sore body. Groaning, she dusted herself off, the sand clinging to her feet.
"Get back here, Nikita!" he roared from the window above, his voice cutting through the stillness of the morning.
Grinning wickedly, she trailed a hand teasingly up her thigh, letting her fingers dip suggestively before sending him a middle finger. "Suck it, pussy!" she yelled, sprinting toward the shiny red Cadillac parked in the driveway.
The son from earlier sat in the driver's seat, looking stunned. His mother stood gaping at the doorway.
"Hey, baby," Nikki panted as she opened the car door, flashing him a cheeky smile.
His gaze dropped briefly to the disheveled bedsheet before biting his lip. "Hey."
Without warning, she grabbed his belt and yanked him out of the seat, pushing him aside. "Thanks for the ride!" she chirped, sliding into the driver's seat.
The engine roared to life as she hit the gas, speeding out of the driveway. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see him standing there, glaring after her.
"Thanks for the files, Mr. Damien" she called out the window, her voice full of smug satisfaction. "It was fun!"
But her victory was short-lived.
Ahead of her, the road was blocked. His car. His men.
She slammed on the brakes, cursing under her breath. "Son of a bitch!"