Her breath stutters again, and this time she feels it. I see the instant awareness flash across her face, the realization that her body is responding even while her mind is screaming at her that this is every kind of wrong.
She takes a step back then, putting the chair between us like a shield. “You’re confusing intrigue with something else.”
“Am I?” I ask mildly. “Because I haven’t touched you. I haven’t threatened you. And I know that whatever this is, you feel it too, just underneath the anger at being caught. And when that anger subsides, all that will be left is that aching, confused, yearning that threatens to eat you alive.”
Her lips part. She closes them again. Frustration flickers across her face because she knows I’m right.
“No,” she says instead. “You are just surprised that a woman pulled off the biggest heist the Bratva has ever seen. You’ll lose interest and give me back to my uncle. Then there would have been no point in any of this.”
“No,” I disagree. “You’re wrong. You say I don’t know you because I suggested you sold what you stole, but you don’t know me either. Because once I’ve set my mind on wanting something, it’s forever.”
Her fingers curl against the edge of the desk. She’s breathing faster now, chest rising and falling like she’s been running instead of standing still.
“What if I don’t want you,” she says, trying to sound aggressive, but the fire in her eyes subsides too quickly to give her words any weight.
I step forward again, closing the distance she created, stopping just short of touching her despite every part of my body feeling like it’s on fire and she is the only thing that could douse it. “You’re lying.”
Her eyes blaze. “You don’t get to tell me what I feel.”
“No,” I say softly. “But that doesn’t stop me from seeing it.”
I lift my hand, stopping inches from her cheek. She flinches anyway, a sharp intake of breath that gives her away more clearly than any confession could.
“You didn’t pull away when I came closer,” I murmur. “You didn’t run when you heard me behind you. And when you saw that photograph… you didn’t look afraid.”
“What did I look like?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hold her gaze, let her see the truth there. “Like you were understanding what it felt like to finally be seen for what you are.”
Her throat works again. Silence stretches between us, thick and electric, charged with everything neither of us is saying. Her eyes flick to my mouth. Just once. Just long enough.
The third tell.
I lower my hand, deliberately breaking the moment before it tips into something she isn’t ready for yet. “Go to bed, Victoria,” I say gently. “You’ve had enough discoveries for one night.”
She blinks, disoriented. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t argue. She moves past me toward the door, and as she does, her arm brushes mine accidentally. Her body reacts instantly with a subtle shiver she can’t control.
She pauses at the door, her back to me. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she says.
I smile to myself. “It means everything, Victoria.”
She leaves without looking back.
Victoria
I lie on my back staring at the ceiling, counting the slow rise and fall of my chest like it might anchor me to something solid.
The room is quiet in that way expensive houses always are, insulated from the world, padded with money and control and the illusion of safety. The sheets are too soft. They cling to my skin like they’re trying to convince me this is comfort and not captivity dressed up as kindness. I should be exhausted. I should be sleeping. Instead, my body hums with restless energy, every nerve stretched tight and buzzing like it’s waiting for impact.
I tell myself that this is temporary. That I’ve been trapped before and I survived it. That I’ll survive this, too.
The lies feel thin.
I turn onto my side, dragging the pillow closer, pressing my face into fabric that smells faintly of detergent. My mind searches for anything that’s nothim. He is like a shadow behind my eyes. Leonid’s presence won’t leave me alone. The way he stood in the doorway. The sound of his voice. Calm. Certain. Like he knew exactly how that moment would unfold and let it anyway.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Stop it.
