Not because it’s funny…because it’s so utterlyinsane.
Artem studies me as if witnessing a manic episode. He’s definitely getting something.
Me about to lose my entire mind and on the verge of screaming.
“Something funny there, Sienna.”
“Yes,” I immediately respond, pushing myself up to stand on my feet. “You. You being here. You thinking I’m going to abide by your rules and whatever reason you’re here.” I stare him directly in the eyes when I say. “I want my stuff backnow, Artem. I’m not a child.”
He lifts a brow. “I’m here to bring you home.”
“That’snotmy home.”
He shrugs. “It is now.”
“No.”I shake my head violently as if it’s going to stop this conversation and bring all my things back. “See, that’s not how this works?—”
“You sure about that?” he asks, and his voice takes on that flat, no-bullshit tone I’ve heard once before. When we argued about that stupid black dress he wanted me to wear in L.A to show off for Benedikt’s friends. “Because last I checked, you made a deal.”
“A verbal one.”
“Verbal counts,” he says. “Especially with a man like Benedikt.”
“I didn’t sign anything. Which means nothing is legally binding.”
“Ben’s not the kind of guy who cares about ink when he already owns the paper.” He pushes off the doorframe, steps inside like he lives here, and hands tucked casually into his pockets. “He said you’re moving in. And I’m here to make that happen.”
“You don’t get to make anything happen. Neither does he.” I fold my arms across my chest and plant my heels into the floor. “I didn’t agree to this arrangement being immediate.”
“Yeah, well.” He looks around the empty apartment like it personally offends him. “Ben did. He said you’d say this shit, by the way. Said you’d kick and scream and act like the world is ending. Said to be gentle. But don’t let that confuse you, I’m not here to play therapist.”
“Oh, thank God.” I roll my eyes. “Because you’d make a terrible one.”
“You’re not wrong.” His mouth tugs into a humorless smirk. “So do us both a favor and save the tantrum for later. Grab your shit. We’ve got a car downstairs waiting.”
“There’s nothing left tograb,” I snap. “Hetookit all.”
“Less things to carry, then. Let’s go.”
“You don’t even care that he—what? Broke into my apartment? Had people touching my things? How is that okay to you?”
“It’s not my job to care. My job is to keep you breathing and under control. To place you where he asked me to place you.”
“Oh, poor you.” I walk a slow circle around him like I’m sizing him up for a fight I might actually take. “Babysitting the big bad mob boss’s new project. I bet you’re thrilled.”
He doesn’t blink. “You have no idea.”
I jab a finger at his chest. “Then go back and tell your boss that I want my stuff returned.Allof it. Or I’m not going anywhere. I’m not a puppet, Artem. And I’m definitely not a girl who jumps at a snap of someone’s fingers. Go tell yourbossthat I’m not leaving. That I won’t go anywhere withyou.”
His jaw ticks. “Don’t put yourself in that position, Sienna. You won’t like the outcome.”
“Why?” I challenge. “You going to throw me over your shoulder? Drag me down the stairs?”
For a beat, I swear he considers it. His nostrils flare, like he’s trying to talk himself out of it.
“No,” he says finally, voice low, but there’s a slight grit to it. “I’m not allowed to touch you.”
“Thank God for that.”
