Page 92 of Black Ledger

“Of course she went on a date—she can date,” Kaz said with a sharp laugh.

“No, she can’t.” Ilya crossed his arms.

Maks made a face. “It’s just—that would be like dating a corpse. She’s so cold and uninviting⁠—”

I gasped.

“But she’s hot⁠—“

Ilya glared at Kaz. “She’s my sister. Don’t make me kill you.” His gaze dropped to the bruise forming on my cheek. “Do I have to kill Severin?”

“Oh, God, no, Ilya. He didn’t even hit me. He just blocked and contained me. If anything, you should kill me for punching the Pakhan’s son.”

Kaz shook his head. “Well, sometimes the Pakhan’s son deserves to get punched.”

“I know, right?” I bit my lip. “I was hoping he’d be here because I need to talk to him.”

About fucking everything. From the way he touched me to the words he said.

And you’ll never want me back.

Ilya crossed his arms and tensed his jaw. “Well, I have no idea when he will be back, but when he is, we are going to have a few words.”

“You will not.” I crossed my arms, mimicking him.

Kaz stepped closer and pulled another twig from my hair. “I think she should shower and get changed and maybe we can talk about this after.”

Ilya growled low in his chest but let Kaz walk me out of the living room, up the stairs, and to his suite. He began rifling through his drawers, finding clothing for me to wear after the shower.

“I really don’t think I should take a shower in your rooms, and I definitely don’t think I should wear your clothes.”

“Oh, no?” Kaz lifted a manicured, very knowing eyebrow. “Why not?”

I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes. “You know.” I sat down on his bed. “He will kill you if I smell like you.”

“It would drive him craz⁠—”

“Stop, Kazikha.”

My tone was harsh. It was so rare with him that Kaz froze in his tracks and stared at me. He let out a long sigh and dropped the clothing he had gathered into his chair before walking over to me, sitting down, and grasping my hand.

He squeezed, the gesture meaning, What’s wrong?

“He tried to kiss me.”

His gaze locked on my face, tracking my every micro-expression. “Tried?”

I averted my eyes and dragged my thumb over my knuckles. “Well, he kissed me, but I didn’t kiss him back?”

“Why not?”

A hollow laugh escaped me, no humor in it. “I don’t fucking know how, and I freaked out. I was surprised, and I am not like all of you. I don’t fuck around. I’ve never been kissed, and it felt so important and big⁠—”

“And you froze.” He gave a quiet, measured nod.

I threw up my hands in frustration before dropping them back into my lap. “I don’t know what the fuck I am doing, and I ruined everything.”

He rubbed his thumb along his jawline. “And you didn’t want him to leave?”