“You walking away doesn’t fix this.”
“How do you know that?” She throws one hand toward the windows. “How do you know they wouldn’t leave everybody alone if I disappeared?”
“Because they already know who you are.”
“That doesn’t explain why they’d keep comin’ after me if I leave.”
My jaw tightens so hard it aches. She keeps looking at this like it belongs in the realm of normal logic, normal people, and normal danger. It doesn’t. The second men in my world decide someone matters, they never stop using them.
“It doesn’t matter where you go now,” I tell her, my voice roughening despite every attempt to keep it even. “They know your name. They know where you live. They know you matter to me.”
“That still makes no damn sense,” she says, planting her hands on her hips.
“It makes perfect sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Her voice cracks slightly beneath the anger while she stares at me like she can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “You’re actin’ like I’m trapped in this forever because I screwed you a few times.”
The room goes completely still. Rage burns through my veins.
Maggie sees the change immediately. I watch it happen in real time. The second she sees those words hit a part of me she shouldn’t have touched.
My jaw clenches while I stare at her across the office, and when I speak again, my voice comes out lower and much colder.
“You think that’s what this was to me?”
Her breathing stumbles.
Good.
Because I want her to understand exactly who she’s standing in front of tonight.
“You think I touched you casually?” I step closer slowly, watching her eyes widen inch by inch. “You think men like me take women into our beds, into our homes, around our children, and then forget them afterward?”
“Alexei—”
“No.” The word drops between us like a threat. “You don’t get to reduce this to casual fucking.”
Anger burns hotter beneath my skin now, but underneath it sits something even uglier. Possession. The idea of her thinking she meant nothing to me feels almost insulting.
“You have any idea what happens to men who try to touch what belongs to me?” I ask quietly.
Maggie’s pulse jumps visibly in her throat. “There it is,” she whispers. “That right there. You keep sayin’ things like that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“I’m not property, Alexei.”
“No,” I say, stepping close enough that she has to tilt her head back to hold my eyes. “You’re worse.”
Confusion flashes across her face before I continue.
“You’re the first woman in years who’s managed to get inside every part of my life.” My voice roughens now despite everyattempt to control it. “My daughter loves you. My men know your name. I think about you every hour of the goddamn day. And now another man is using you to get to me.”
My hand braces against the desk beside her hard enough that the wood creaks beneath my palm.
Her mouth parts slightly before pressing closed again. Then she shoves both hands hard against my chest. It does nothing except rip the last thread of restraint out of me completely.
I grab her, one hand locking around her waist while the other slides into her hair at the nape of her neck. My mouth crashes onto hers hard enough that both of us stumble backward against the desk. The kiss feels almost violent.
