“You actually believe that?”
“That’s what I just fucking said.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s the story you tell yourself, so you don’t have to admit that you’re in love with her.”
The words hit harder than they should. I keep my face still, but my chest tightens anyway. “You’re out of line.”
“But I’m not wrong.”
“Drop it.”
He doesn’t. “She will destroy you, and when she does, I’ll be the one cleaning up what’s left. Again.”
I step close enough to him that we’re eye to eye. “If you ever say her name in that tone again, I’ll put you in the ground myself.”
His jaw works, and for a second, I think he might test me. But then he exhales and steps back, shaking his head.
“You’ve changed,” he says. “And not in a good way.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But I’m still the one giving orders.”
He studies me for a long time, searching for the man he used to follow. “If she were anyone else, you’d already have her buried.”
The idea behind that makes me sick to my stomach. However, I still respond with, “I know.”
“Then why not this time?”
“Because she’s mine,” I say quietly. “And I don’t kill what’s mine.”
The words hang there, too heavy to take back. Artem looks at me like he doesn’t recognize me.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he says. “And I don’t want you to. Not after everything we’ve built, Ben. We’re toeing a very dangerous line here.”
“Probably.”
His brows furrow because I’m not budging.
Not this time.
“You can’t fix what’s broken in you with her, Ben. You know that, right?”
I don’t answer.
There’s nothing wrong with her; it’s me.
Artem’s right, she doesn’t belong here, but I won’t admit that to him.
He waits expectantly for me to say something to make it better.
I don’t.
Finally, he shakes his head and walks out, the door closing hard behind him.
He’s not wrong.
But he’s not right either.
I stare at the desk, and all I can think about is her face when she looked at me earlier, like I’d already made up my mind about what she is.
