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But the biggest part is what I just overheard her say over the phone.
I’m engaged to be married.
As in, another fucker is calling her “fiancée” and he’ll put a ring on her finger and make her his wife.
A pressing weight perches on my chest at the thought and it’s hard to breathe properly. It’s even more difficult to keep myself in check and not destroy everything in my path.
Starting with him.
The fucker who thinks he could take Anastasia away from me.
“K-Knox…?” she stammers, her soft voice unsure, as if she doesn’t believe I’m standing here.
I wouldn’t have believed it either a week ago. But ever since Daniel confirmed my doubts about her and I put all the pieces of the puzzle together, I had to find her again.
I had to rectify things.
“You were expecting someone else?” I can’t control the venom in my tone. “Yourfiancéperhaps?”
“Oh my God, you’re really here…” I expected anything from her reaction—the initial shock, shame, maybe even anger, but when she starts shaking and her grip releases her phone, letting it clatter to the floor, the last emotion I expected takes refuge in her eyes.
Fear.
Deep, raw, and absolutely gutting. It’s like she’s seeing her worst nightmare coming true.
Or maybe the scariest ghost from her childhood nightmares.
She lunges at me, grabbing my arm with her unsteady one. “You have to go. You can’t be here…”
I effortlessly pull free of her hold. “This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“No…” She’s shaking her head, her frantic gaze searching behind me for something or someone, I’m not sure.
“On the contrary, it’s a fucking yes, beautiful.”
“You don’t understand…”
I grab her by her slim shoulders, shaking her. “It’s you who doesn’t seem to understand the reality of things. Did you really think pulling that stunt with Daniel and disappearing on me would mean I’d let you go? You can run to the other side of the world, invent a new fucking identity and name and life, and I would still find you. You’re mine, fucking mine, and that means there’s no fucking escaping me. There’s no escapingus.”
A tear slides down her cheek and clings to her upper lip. I don’t think as I lean over and lick it, my tongue clinging to her skin as I taste the saltiness. Then I drag my tongue up her cheek, licking the tear, and when I reach her eyes, I kiss the closed lid. I kiss those ethereally blue eyes that I haven’t stopped thinking about since the first time I saw them.
Her nails sink into my forearms and she digs them in deeply, but nothing is deep enough to push me off her, so I continue kissing her tears and feasting on her taste.
“I lied to you,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.
I pull back but don’t let her go. “About what?”
“About who I am. Where I come from. My family. All of it.”
“You didn’t lie. You just hid it. I knew all along there was more to the birth of Jane’s identity.”
“It’s because…I’m…I’m…”
“The daughter of the New YorkBratva’sPakhan. I know.”
“And you still came?” She stares incredulously, some of her earlier fear slipping back into her eyes. “What is wrong with you?”
“You.” I breathe out the word, leaning my forehead against hers. “You are everything that’s wrong with me, beautiful. You took something of mine and I need it back.”
