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“You know very well that wasn’t my intention.”
“Know very well?” I repeat in an incredulous tone and force him to a halt, then yank away the blindfold. I’m greeted by shadowy trees and Kirill’s stoic face. “You’re the type who gives people a safety net just to pull the rug from beneath their feet, so no, there’s no way of knowing your true intentions.”
He steps forward, invading my space and trapping me with his arctic wolf eyes. “That might apply to everyone else, but never to you.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “Stop saying things like that!”
“Why?” He cradles my fist in his hand and keeps it caged against his chest. “Are you by any chance afraid that if you listen to me without projecting your self-induced hatred, you’ll actually believe me and eventually forgive me?”
“Forgive you? For what, exactly? For keeping me a secret while plotting to marry someone else? For sending your people to get rid of my family and me because you couldn’t finish the job six years ago?”
“If you were my secret, I wouldn’t have introduced you to my family and my organization as my fucking wife. I didn’t send anyone to kill you or your family. Not now, not six years ago.”
“But I saw Makar that day! He was there near the cottage to make sure I was blown up inside it.”
He pauses, eyes narrowing. “Makar?”
“Your father’s senior guard who’s been loyal to you since his death, or are you also going to pretend you don’t know him or didn’t give him the order?”
“I do know him, but he was under no such fucking order. In fact, he’s supposed to be working closely with the Bratva branch in Chicago and has been for months now.”
“So you’re telling me you’re not the one who called him back to eliminate me?”
He grabs my shoulder with his free hand, and shakes me, nearly knocking all my senses out of their confinements. “This is the last fucking time I’ll say this, I’d never hurt you.”
“But you did!” I punch my chest. “You took the stupid feelings I had for you and used them against me in the cruelest way. But it doesn’t matter now. I’m over it and you.”
“Liar.” His huskily spoken word sends a jolt of electricity through my stupid heart that refuses to die already. “If you were over it, you wouldn’t go out of your way to avoid me. You wouldn’t be shaking in my arms like you are now.”
I try to jerk away, but he wraps an arm around my lower back and slams my front against his.
In the dark, our harsh breaths echo in the air, intertwining with the sounds of the night creatures.
“Let me go.” I push at his chest.
“I made that mistake once. I believed you were dead and buried what I thought were your fucking bones with my own hands. I’ll never do that again.”
“You’re only delaying the inevitable.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You agreed to divorce me in three months.”
He lowers his head so that his face is nearly level with mine. I almost forgot how beautiful he is up close. His straight nose complements his sharp jawline and his defined lips. He’s one of those people who has model-like features but with the charm of a shrewd businessman.
No matter what happens, he stands there like an unmoving mountain, forever in control and unperturbed. It’s almost inhuman. I wish I could see the version of him where, according to Karina, Anna, and even Rai, he was a ghost of himself after I was gone.
I wish I could stop trembling when he touches me.
I wish I could…just make him disappear and not miss him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Makar?” he asks instead of answering my earlier question.
“Why is it important?”
“Let me think. Because of the fact that I have a fucking traitor in my ranks? Thanks to you, he might’ve already fled.”
“So it’s my fault now?”
“Just stop it. Stop trying to invent a fight and drive a deeper wedge between us. For once, stop fucking running.”
Easier said than done when my flight trigger is awakened. In fact, all I want to do is run into the middle of an unfamiliar, faraway place, as long as I’m not in his immediate vicinity.
His merciless grip is the only thing keeping me in place, and he seems to recognize that, too, because he tightens his arm around my waist.
I don’t know if it’s the added pressure of his touch or the fact that a foolish part of me is starting to believe him, but my fight slowly wanes until I can barely sense it.
Tension lingers in the air even as my fist tries to push at him. It’s my last desperate attempt to keep some distance between us.
He squeezes my hand, but it’s not meant to crush my fingers as I would expect. It’s more like he’s demanding my attention. “Work with me, not against me.”
