All The Pretty Little Lies (Second Sons Duet #1)

28. Zaire

ZAIRE

I lean against the cold brick wall, my eyes fixed on the entrance of the fertility clinic across the street. The New York air is crisp, biting at my exposed skin, but I barely notice. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Vesper and the bombshell we uncovered days ago.

Her embryos. Stored here, in this nondescript building. The knowledge burns in my chest, a mix of anger and protective instinct that threatens to overwhelm me. I clench my fists, willing myself to stay put, to stick to the plan.

Alex shifts beside me, his presence a steady reminder of our purpose. We've been here for days, watching, waiting. The doctor we've been hunting - this elusive Dr. Ivanov - remains a ghost. Every lead we've followed has led to a dead end, each clue dissolving like smoke through our fingers. He’s glued to his phone, scrolling through the screen at a rapid pace.

"Hvar ertu, helvíti?” Alex mutters under his breath.

“Another dead end?” I mutter, not taking my eyes off the clinic's entrance.

Alex shakes his head, his frustration mirroring my own. "Nothing. It's like he never existed. We're missing something, Z," Alex says, his voice low. "Ivanov did not just vanish into thin air."

I nod, my mind racing. The tattoos on my arms seem to itch beneath my jacket, a physical manifestation of my restlessness. "We need to dig deeper. There has to be a connection we're not seeing."

As I speak, my thoughts drift to Vesper. Her fierce green eyes, the way her blonde hair catches the light. The strength she exudes, even in her most vulnerable moments. The thought of anyone using her, manipulating her biology without her knowledge, makes my blood boil.

I hesitate, weighing our options. The tattoo on my neck, an intricate design of intertwining thorns, seems to pulse with each beat of my heart. It's a reminder of the pain I've endured, the battles I've fought. This feels like another war, but one with higher stakes than ever before.

I pull out my phone, desperate for a moment of distraction. As the screen lights up, my breath catches in my throat. There she is my lock screen a snapshot of paradise. Vesper's long, tanned legs stretch out before her, the azure waters of the beach lapping at the shore beyond. The sight of her brings a bittersweet ache to my chest, a longing so intense it's almost physical.

But it's not just Vesper in the photo. Another pair of legs, unmistakably masculine, frame hers. Oscar's. The sight stirs a complicated cocktail of emotions within me. Jealousy burns hot and quick, a flare of possessiveness that I try to tamp down. It's irrational, I know. Oscar is as devoted to Vesper as I am, and I trust him with my life. With her life. Still, I can't help but wish it was my legs in that photo, my skin warmed by the same sun that caresses hers. I imagine the feel of the sand between my toes, the salt-laden breeze ruffling my hair. Most of all, I yearn for the weight of Vesper in my arms, the scent of her hair, and the sound of her laughter.

"You okay?" Alex's voice cuts through my reverie, concern evident in his tone.

I blink, realizing I've been staring at my phone for far longer than I intended. "Yeah," I mutter, clearing my throat. "Just wishing I was there."

Alex's expression softens, understanding flickering in his eyes. He knows what it's like to be torn between duty and desire, between the mission and the heart.

"She's safe with Oscar," he reminds me gently. "And the sooner we crack this case, the sooner you can get back to your love pentagon.”

Ignoring his comment about the complicated relationship between the three of us, I push off the wall, my muscles aching from hours of inactivity. "We need to change our approach," I say, running a hand through my hair. "This waiting game isn't getting us anywhere."

Alex nods, his blue eyes narrowing as he scans the street. "What do you have in mind?"

I take a deep breath, my mind racing with possibilities. The cool air fills my lungs, sharpening my focus. "Alex," I say, my voice low and urgent, "you still got that voice modulator? And the number spoofer?"

Alex's eyebrows shoot up, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He rolls his eyes dramatically, the gesture so familiar it almost makes me laugh despite the tension thrumming through my body. "Please," he scoffs, "It’s one of the first things I pack for road trips."

I nod, a plan rapidly forming in my mind. The tattoos on my arms seem to pulse with anticipation as if they can sense the impending action. "I think it's time we stopped waiting for Ivanov to show his face," I say, my eyes darting back to the clinic's entrance. "Let's bring him to us instead."

Alex's eyes light up with understanding. "You want to call the clinic," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Exactly," I confirm, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the prospect. "If we can't find him, maybe we can smoke him out."

“But you can’t call as Ivanov himself. That wouldn’t work.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” I admit. “But, think about what Talon said about the auction. The red headed bitch that brokered her deal said that if he was unhappy with his purchase, resale would be no problem. Let’s just say that we are unhappy with our purchase. We can leave a message, as Natasha, requesting Ivanov’s assistance.”

Alex nods, his excitement palpable. "I like it," he says, already reaching for his phone. "I've got everything we need in the car. Let's do this."

We make our way back to the nondescript sedan parked a block away, our steps quick and purposeful. The city bustles around us, oblivious to the high-stakes game we're about to play.

Alex pops the trunk, revealing a treasure trove of tech. His fingers dance over the equipment, selecting what we need with practiced ease. In minutes, we're back in the car, the engine purring to life as Alex sets up the gear.

"Okay," he says, handing me a small, sleek device. "This will modulate your voice. And I've got the number spoofer ready to go.”

I take the device, feeling its weight in my hand. I clear my throat, preparing myself for the performance of a lifetime.

"Ready?" Alex asks, his finger hovering over the call button.

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. The scar on my neck seems to tingle, a reminder of all we've been through, all we're fighting for. "Let's do this," I say, my voice steady despite the nerves coursing through me.

Alex hits the button. The phone rings once, twice, three times before a crisp, professional voice answers. "Fertility Solutions, how may I assist you today?"

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the voice modulator against my throat. When I speak, the words come out in a sultry feminine tone, completely unlike my own.

"Good afternoon," I purr, channeling all the cold authority I imagine Natasha would possess. "This is Natasha. I need to leave a message for Dr. Ivanov."

There's a slight pause on the other end of the line, and I can almost hear the receptionist's posture straightening. "Of course. How may I help you?"

I lock eyes with Alex, who gives me an encouraging nod. "Please inform Dr. Ivanov that I'll be bringing a product by tomorrow for testing. It's unsatisfactory, and I require his expertise to determine its viability."

The receptionist's voice is all efficiency now, the faint sounds of typing in the background. "I'll make sure Dr. Ivanov receives your message right away. Is there a specific time you'd like to come in?"

“After hours. He’ll understand. Make sure he's available. This is a matter of utmost importance."

"I'll pass along the message right away."

I end the call, my heart pounding in my chest. For a moment, neither Alex nor I speak, the weight of what we've just done settling over us like a heavy blanket.

"Well," Alex finally says, breaking the silence. "I guess now we wait."

We make our way back to the hotel, the streets of New York a blur of noise and color around us. My mind is racing, replaying the phone call over and over, searching for any misstep, any detail that might give us away. The call was a gamble, but I had to take it.

We reach our rooms on the third floor. My mind is so lost in thought I nearly walk past them until Alex tugs on the sleeve of my shirt to stop me.

"I'm going to see if I can track any unusual activity at the clinic. Maybe our little message will stir something up." I nod, barely hearing him before Alex disappears to his connecting room next door.

I unlock the door to my room, and step inside. I collapse onto the bed, the adrenaline of the day finally catching up with me. My hand is already reaching for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I find the one I'm looking for. Vesper. I select video call and hit send. The phone rings once, twice, three times. Each second feels like an eternity. Then, finally, her beautiful face and voice comes through.

"Z? Is everything okay?"

The sound of her voice sends a wave of longing through me so intense it's almost painful.

“It is now that I am looking at your pretty face, moya koroleva.”

She smiles, and my heart skips a beat. Even through the screen of my phone, her beauty is breathtaking. The soft glow of what I assume is her bedside lamp casts a warm halo around her golden hair, making her look almost ethereal.

"What are you up to?" I ask, drinking in every detail of her face, from the slight crinkle at the corner of her eyes when she smiles to the faint freckles dusting her nose.

"Just laying on my bed," she replies, shifting slightly. The movement causes her hair to cascade over her shoulder, and I find myself wishing I could reach through the screen and run my fingers through those silky strands.

"Alone?" I can't help but ask, a mixture of hope and jealousy coloring my tone.

Her laugh, light and melodious, fills my ears. "If you're asking about Oz, he's out in the kitchen with Talon working on dinner."

My heart soars at this information. I love knowing she's alone, that for this moment, I have her all to myself. A mischievous grin spreads across my face. "So, you're all alone in that big bed, huh?"

Vesper rolls her eyes, but I can see the hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. "Behave yourself, Z," she chides, but there's no real admonishment in her tone.

"Now where's the fun in that?" I tease, my voice dropping to a lower, more intimate register. "Have you been missing me, moya koroleva?"

She bites her lower lip, a gesture that never fails to drive me wild. "Maybe," she admits softly.

"Maybe?" I echo, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, Vesper. Tell me how much you've been missing me."

She shifts again, and I catch a glimpse of bare shoulder. Is she wearing one of my t-shirts? The thought sends a jolt of desire through me. "A lot," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I see you’ve been in my closet.”

“I might have been,” she coyly admits. My breath catches as I take in the sight of Vesper in my shirt, the hem barely grazing her mid-thigh. Her long legs seem to stretch on forever, and I'm struck by an overwhelming urge to trace every inch of them with my fingertips and my lips.

"Is that all you're wearing, moya koroleva?" I ask, my voice husky with desire.

Vesper bites her lip, a gesture that never fails to drive me wild. Her green eyes sparkle with mischief as she looks directly into the camera. "Maybe," she teases, echoing our earlier exchange.

"Show me," I demand, my pulse quickening. "I want to see what you have on under that shirt."

She hesitates for a moment, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Then, slowly, tantalizingly, she lifts the hem of the shirt. Inch by inch, more of her creamy skin is revealed until I catch a glimpse of lace. My breath hitches as I realize she's wearing nothing but a pair of delicate panties beneath my shirt.

"Fuck, Vesper," I groan, drinking in the sight of her. "You're killing me here."

“Alex isn’t in the room with you, is he?” she asks.

“No,” I tell her. Like I’d let him see what she’s put on display for me right now.

My tattoos seem to burn against my skin, matching the fire coursing through my veins. I want nothing more than to be there with her, to feel her skin against mine, to lose myself in her warmth. But for now, this stolen moment will have to be enough.

She smiles, a soft, tender expression that makes me ache to hold her. "You'll be back soon, right?"

“Not soon enough,” I grumble.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Touch yourself, Vesper," I say, my voice low and husky.

Her eyes widen, a mixture of shock and intrigue flickering across her face. "Z, I...I don't know if I can..."

"You can," I assure her, my voice gentle but firm. "Touch yourself, Vesper. For me."

She hesitates, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "I...I've never..." she trails off, a blush creeping up her neck.

My heart swells with a mixture of tenderness and desire. "That's okay, moya koroleva. I'll guide you. I'll be right here with you."

Vesper takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling beneath my shirt. "Okay," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

"First, prop the phone up so I can see you," I instruct. She complies, adjusting the angle until I can see her face and most of her body. "Perfect. Now, start by running your hands over your body. Slowly. Feel every curve, every dip."

Her hands tremble slightly as she begins to caress herself, starting at her collarbone and working her way down. I watch, mesmerized, as her fingers trace the swell of her breasts through the thin fabric of my shirt.

"That's it," I encourage, my voice thick with desire. "Now, slip your hand under the shirt. Feel your skin."

Vesper's breath hitches as her hand disappears beneath the hem of the shirt. Her eyes flutter closed, her lips parting slightly as she explores her own body.

"How does it feel?" I ask, my own body thrumming with tension.

"Good," she breathes. "Warm. Tingly."

"Focus on those sensations," I tell her. "Let them build. Now, move your hand lower. Trace the curve of your hip down the inside of your thigh."

She follows my instructions, her movements becoming more confident. I watch, entranced, as she arches slightly off the bed, her legs parting.

"That's it, moya koroleva. You're doing so well. Now, I want you to touch yourself through your panties. Feel how warm you are."

Vesper gasps as her fingers make contact. Her eyes fly open, locking with mine through the screen. The raw vulnerability in her gaze takes my breath away.

"Z," she whimpers, her hips moving almost imperceptibly against her hand.

"I'm right here," I assure her, my voice low and soothing. "You're so beautiful like this, Vesper. So perfect. Now, slip your hand inside your panties. Feel how wet you are for me."

She obeys, her back arching as her fingers explore. I can see the moment she finds her most sensitive spot, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

"That's it, moya koroleva," I murmur, my voice low and husky. "Circle your clit slowly. Feel how sensitive it is."

Vesper's breath comes in short gasps, her hips rocking gently against her hand. I can see the pleasure building in her, evident in the flush spreading across her cheeks and the way her free hand clutches at the bedsheets.

"Z," she whimpers, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine through the screen. The raw need in her gaze sends a jolt of desire straight to my groin.

My cock strains against my jeans, desperate for attention. But I ignore it, focusing entirely on Vesper. "You're doing so well," I praise her. "Now, slide one finger inside yourself. Slowly."

She complies, her back arching off the bed as she penetrates herself. A soft moan escapes her lips, and I have to bite back a groan of my own.

"How does it feel?" I ask, my voice rough with desire.

"Good," she gasps. "So good, Z. I wish it was you."

Her words send a fresh wave of lust coursing through me. "Me too, moya koroleva. Soon, I promise. For now, add another finger. Curl them up towards your belly button."

Vesper's eyes widen as she follows my instructions. "Oh," she breathes, her hips bucking involuntarily. "Oh, Z."

"That's it," I encourage her. "You've found your sweet spot. Keep stroking it. Use your thumb on your clit at the same time."

She obeys, her movements becoming more frantic as she chases her pleasure. I watch, mesmerized, as she writhes on the bed, her face a mask of ecstasy. My cock throbs painfully, begging for release, but I ignore it. This moment is all about Vesper.

"You're so beautiful like this," I tell her, my voice barely above a whisper. "So perfect. I want you to come for me, Vesper.

Her movements become more erratic, her breathing labored. I can see she's close, teetering on the edge of release. "That's it, moya koroleva. Come for me. Now."

With a cry that sends shivers down my spine, Vesper arches off the bed, her body trembling as her orgasm washes over her. I watch, entranced, as wave after wave of pleasure courses through her.

"Z," she gasps, her eyes locked on mine as she comes down from her high. "That was...incredible."

I smile, feeling a mix of pride and overwhelming love for this amazing woman. "You're incredible," I tell her softly.

As Vesper catches her breath, a noise in the background catches my attention. Footsteps, coming closer.

"Vesper? Dinner's ready!" Oscar's voice calls from the doorway, and I watch as Vesper's eyes widen in shock, her hand still between her legs.

"Shit," she whispers, scrambling to sit up and smooth down my shirt. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, and I can't help but feel a mixture of amusement and possessiveness at the sight.

Oscar appears in the frame, his eyebrows shooting up as he takes in the scene before him. His blue eyes flick from Vesper's disheveled state to the phone propped up on the nightstand, and understanding dawns on his face.

"Oh," he says, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I see my brother's been keeping you entertained."

Vesper buries her face in her hands, but not before I catch a glimpse of her embarrassed smile. "Oz, I...we were just..."

"No need to explain," Oscar chuckles, holding up his hands. "I know damn well what you two were up to." He turns his gaze to the phone, and I can see the mix of emotions in his eyes; amusement, resignation, and a hint of something deeper, more complex. "Enjoying the show, Z?"

I clear my throat, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth has become. "You know me, Oz. Always making the most of a long-distance situation." Oscar rolls his eyes, but there's no real heat in the gesture. "Take care of her, Oz," I say, my voice low and serious.

He nods, his expression softening. "Always, Z. You know that."

Vesper, having recovered somewhat from her embarrassment, looks between us, her green eyes shining with emotion. "I miss you, Zaire," she says softly.

"I miss you too, moya koroleva," I reply, my heart aching with the truth of it. "I'll be home soon, I promise."

I tell Vesper I have to go, my voice husky with barely contained desire. As I end the call, the image of her flushed and satisfied burns itself into my mind. My body thrums with unreleased tension, every nerve ending on fire.