Alek blinked. “You did a wax…on your back?”
The disbelief on his face was almost ridiculous, and I would’ve laughed if Mila didn’t look like she wanted to disappear.
“Yes,” she said, a little too defensively. “I did.”
He stared at her, visibly trying to compute it, then gave a slow reluctant nod.
Without another word, he turned away.
A flicker of something caught my eye—a tattoo, only barely visible at the nape of his neck beneath his shirt. Mila saw it too. Her shoulders sagged, and I could practically hear her thoughts:Gods, I should’ve gone with a newly set tattoo instead of a wax.
She let out a sigh. Audibly.
Alek spun back around so fast, I almost missed it, his eyes once again examining her with scrutiny.
Before Mila could react, his hand shot out and struck her back—so hard, the crack of impact echoed through the street.
Her scream tore through the air—shrill, pained, unmistakably real. I gasped, my stomach lurching at the sound.
Then everything happened too fast.
He grabbed her arm—and pulled her toward a nearby building.
“Alek, stop! Let me go!” Mila cried, struggling against him.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her. Just dragged her across the cracked pavement and into the shadow of the ruins, like this was routine. Like her pain didn’t matter.
And then she was gone—swallowed by the dark. And I was standing there, helpless and horrified, as this beautiful, terrifying guy hauled her out of sight.
“Follow them,” Stephen ordered with urgency.
Without hesitation, we melted into the shadows, trailing behind Alek and Mila as they moved toward what looked like a former Roman villa.
We caught up right as they stepped into what must have once been a kitchen.
Alek shoved her ahead. “Show me,” he said—calm, cold, unmistakably in control.
Mila stumbled but didn’t answer. She just stood there, arms tight around herself, shaking her head like a kid refusing medicine.
“Now.” His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. The threat was in the stillness.
Mila’s face tightened—jaw clenched, eyes glossy with unshed tears. I could see her fighting to stay upright, to stay in control, and I hated how powerless we were.
“NO!” she shouted, and shoved him back, hard.
Alek staggered a half step back, more surprised than hurt. His gaze dropped to where she’d touched him—as if he couldn’t believe she’d dared to.
Then his eyes found hers again, glaring with fresh fury.
“You have two seconds,” he hissed, his tone low and lethal, “before I check it by force.”
The following silence was suffocating.
Mila’s breath shook as she exhaled, all the fight draining out of her at once. “Fine,” she relented. “I’ll fucking show you, you creep. But you don’t tell anyone. And you don’t ask questions.”
The words trembled, but they still landed like a dare.
Alek’s lips thinned, and I watched Mila’s determined stare as she laid down her terms. “Those are my conditions,” she said, her hands slightly shaking.
