Yuri nodded slowly. "Understood, Boss."
The elevator doors closed, and I didn't look at him again. When I finally reached the penthouse, the silence was so thick that it almost hurt. And I pulled off my jacket, tossing it on the floor. My chest felt tight like something inside me was about to break, and I didn't know how to stop it.
I went straight for the bar and poured a drink. The whiskey burned my throat, but it didn't calm me. Tonight, it burned differently. After the drink, I walked toward the glass wall and stared out at the skyline. The city looked cold and merciless, like a reflection of everything I'd built. Power, fear, and control. I had all of it and yet, one woman, one goddamn woman, was starting to pull it apart.
I didn't even know when it began… maybe when she first looked at me like she wasn't scared. Maybe when she talked back like she had nothing to lose, or maybe when she touched me, and it felt like something I didn't deserve. I told myself it was nothing, that it was just lust, curiosity, and control. But that lie was wearing thin.
Every time I thought of her, something inside me shifted, and every time she defied me, I wanted to crush her and protect her in the same breath. I hated that feeling, and I hated her for causing it. My fingers tightened around the glass, and I didn't realize how hard until I heard it crack.
"Fuck."
Blood slipped between my fingers, red against the glass. The pain was sharp. I welcomed it. The sound of footsteps came from the hallway, and Yuri's voice carried through the air. "Boss, are you–"
"Out," I snapped.
He didn't argue, and the door clicked shut. I stood there, bleeding, the city lights reflecting off the glass. Whiskey dripped onto the floor, mixing with my blood.
This wasn't love. It couldn't be because love was weakness, and I'd spent my whole life cutting weakness out. So, Itold myself again that it was an obsession and control. I was still the one holding the strings. But as the blood kept dripping and the ache in my chest grew heavier, I knew the truth. That I wasn't in control anymore than she was. And I knew the second I heard her voice, she'd heard too much.
"You knew they were coming for me," she snapped, stepping like a storm breaking through the door. "You knew, and you said nothing."
Her hair was loose, and her eyes were wild. The kind of anger that didn't come from fear but from betrayal.
I turned and looked at her, forcing my tone to stay level. "You shouldn't have been listening."
She gave a sharp and bitter laugh. "That's not the point! You're treating me like a prisoner, Mikhail."
"You don't need to worry about anything."
"Worry?" She took a step forward. "You locked me in your glass cage, surrounded with guards, and you think that makes me safe? I'm not one of your soldiers!"
My jaw tightened, and I could feel the anger rising, not at her, but at the thought of someone even thinking about touching her. "You're mine," I said, the words were rough and low. "You're my wife and property, and anyone who touches you dies."
Her chin lifted. "I'm not your property. I don't need your protection, and I'd rather die than be your pawn."
That word hit harder than a bullet... Pawn. She thought that's what she was to me, just another piece on a board I controlled.
Before I could stop myself, I crossed the room, and my hand slammed against the wall beside her, trapping her there. The sound echoed through the room, and her breath hitched, but she didn't flinch.
"If you die," I said, in a breaking voice, "I die too."
The words came out raw and honest. And for a second, neither of us moved. The air between us burned, and I could hear her breathing, fast and steady. I could see the fight still in her eyes and that fire that drove me insane.
Then something inside me cracked. I stepped back, and my hands dropped to my sides. She stood there, staring at me like she didn't recognize what she saw. Maybe she didn't. Maybe I didn't either.
"Why?" She whispered, finally. "Why do you keep doing this?"
I wanted to tell her that I didn't know how to protect her without caging her. Every time she looked at me, I felt like a man instead of a monster. That I couldn't let her go, even if it meant breaking her. But the words stayed stuck in my throat.
"You don't understand what you've become," I said instead, in a voice now almost a whisper.
She looked at me one last time and then turned away. The sound of her footsteps faded down the hall, and they felt heavier than any gunshot I'd ever heard.
I stood there in the silence, the taste of whiskey and regret thick in the air. I was half a king and half a ruin, and she was already in every part of me I'd sworn no one would ever touch.
The night dragged on, long and silent, and the city lights blinked through the glass walls, but didn't reach me. I sat at my desk, with half a drink untouched, staring at nothing. My mind wouldn't shut up, and her voice still echoed in my head... I'm not your pawn. Her eyes when she said it, the way she looked at me when she said it, made me look like I was the enemy. Maybe I was.
I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my temples. I'd killed men for less than the way she talked to me tonight, but none of it mattered because she wasn't like them, and she never would be. A soft knock broke the silence, and Yuri stepped in, pale and holding an envelope as if it might explode in his hand.
