The question hangs between us. I can see her wrestling with it, see the conflict in her eyes. She should want me gone. Should be counting the hours until her quiet, safe life returns.
But she doesn't want that, and neither do I. And we both know this life of hers can’t sustain itself for much longer.
"What I want doesn't matter," she says finally. "You have a life somewhere else. People looking for you. You can't just... stay here."
"Why not?"
"Because—" She stops. Tries again. "Because none of this makes sense. You're Bratva. I'm a baker. We exist in completely different worlds."
I lean forward carefully, ignoring the pull in my side. Close enough that she has to look at me. Close enough that she can't pretend this conversation isn't happening.
"You feel it too," I say quietly. "This pull between us. You've felt it since the first night."
"That's just—" She swallows. "Proximity. Adrenaline. It doesn't mean anything."
"Then why are you still here? Why didn't you call the police that first night? Why didn't you throw me out the moment you learned what I am?"
"Because I'm an idiot," she says and she almost pouts before catching herself and straightening her expression.
"No,” I counter.” It’s because you wanted me to stay."
Her breath catches. "You're very sure of yourself."
"I'm sure of whatever this is." I waggle my index finger between us.
I can see her pulse jumping in her throat and the way her pupils dilate when I move closer.
She wants this. Wants me. Even if she's not ready to admit it yet.
"I need to get back to work," she says, but she doesn't move.
"Lily." I love saying her name. Love the way it feels in my mouth.
"What?" she snaps, but I can tell it’s because she is floundering for control.
"When I leave here—” I lift my gaze from her throat to her eyes slowly. “—you're coming with me."
The words land like a detonation. Her eyes go wide.
"What?" Panic now. Control a long-abandoned station.
"You heard me."
"That's—" She stands abruptly and steps away, putting distance between us. "That's insane. You can't just decide that."
I stay quiet.
"I'm not going anywhere with you. I have a business. A life. I can't just abandon everything because some stranger thinks—"
"I'm not a stranger. Not anymore." My tone is final. She knows it.
"You've been here six days!"
"Long enough."
She laughs, the sound sharp and almost panicked. "Long enough for what? To decide you want to what, kidnap me? Keep me like some kind of—"
"I'm not keeping you. I'm claiming you."
