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She just shakes her head and smirks.
She’s fucking adorable.
As all the doors to the car slam shut, Sergei confirms, “Your place?”
“Yes.”
As we drive through the city, I look over at Ella. She’s shivering. I place my hand on her arm as I ask, “Are you cold?”
She nods her head and whispers, “But also a little scared. I don’t even know you.”
I shrug off my coat and use it to drape across Ella like a blanket. “My name is Mikhail. You don’t have to be scared of me. I would never hurt you.”
Ella adjusts the coat but doesn’t say anything. And even though I know the answer to my next question, I ask it anyways. “And what is your name, baby girl?”
She scoffs at me, like full on scoffs. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know my name. It's Ella.”
I love her fire. But I see something else on her face, now that I’m looking closer. Her words sound strong but her body language says something completely different. She is plastered against the door, putting as much space between us as she can. I need her to know that she can trust me. I need to reassure her somehow so I place my hand on her thigh to help calm her.
“Everything is going to be okay, Ella,” I say trying to reassure her but I don’t want to push, so I don’t say anything else.
But I continue to watch her and take in her reactions as we drive. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her look down at my hand like she can’t believe that I'm touching her.
If she only knew all the ways I want to touch her.
The SUV pulls up to my penthouse and I feel like a fucking kid at Christmas at the thought of Ella in my space.
Once we get the go ahead from Sergei that it's safe to exit, I pull Ella out of the car and walk straight to the secure elevator that goes to my penthouse.
Turning back toward Sergei, I say. “I don’t want anyone to disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”
He nods, and I turn my attention back to the palm security reader. When the elevator doors open, I hurriedly enter with Ella by my side. “Only a select few have access to this elevator. You're safe here.”
She doesn’t respond to me, staying quiet the whole ride up to my penthouse. When the doors open, Ella gasps at the view, “This is beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
Her pale skin blushes, and I wish I could see how far that blush goes. She continues to take in the room and I can’t stop myself from trying to see the room through her eyes. The walls are bare with just a light gray paint on them, the furniture is modern and minimalist. The only piece in this room is an oversized black leather couch that sits right in front of a large T.V. I have no pictures, no knick knacks, nothing.
She turns to me with a question in her eyes. “Where are your memories?”
Pinching my brows, I ask her, “Memories?”
“You know, pictures and things that remind you of people and special times in your life?”
“I never had a reason to spend much time here, I spend most of it at the club. But now that I see you here, I think I was waiting for you.”
I close the distance between us. When I’m close enough I reach out and lazily glide my hands down her arms until I’m holding her hands. “Why did you leave me that night?”
She sucks in a breath and looks down at the floor. She wasn’t expecting me to ask her that, but she answers, “She would’ve punished me if she knew where I was. I wasn’t supposed to be there.”
What the actual fuck? Punish her?
Blood roars in my ears and I stop hearing what she said when she mentioned the word punishment. I try to keep my hands steady and my anger at bay. I don't need Ella thinking I’m mad at her. I mutter, “Who is she?”
“My step-mother. She doesn’t like it when I disobey her,” she replies with a glint in her eye and I take it she disobeys more than her step-mother knows.
“Tell me more,” I demand.
