“That is a thousand percent his fault, Ace. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting you.”
My throat tightens, but I hide it with a small smirk. “You’d be surprised. I think most men prefer their women quiet, obedient, and less… me.”
“Less breathing, maybe?” he says.
I snort. “Something like that. Weird fetishes and all.” Then, quieter, “But Elijah’s different. He was supposed to be. I think that’s what pissed me off the most.”
“What, that he wasn’t?”
“No.” My voice drops. “That hecould’ve beenand chose not to be. He looked at me like I was fire—beautiful, dangerous, something to stay away from. And I think part of me wanted him to get burned.”
Adrian hums thoughtfully. “Sounds like you loved him more for wanting you but refusing to do anything about it.”
“Maybe,” I say softly. “Or maybe I just wanted to prove I could make someone like him fall. Because if he did, maybe it meant I wasn’t broken. Maybe it meant I could still be worth something.”
“Ace. I don’t know you very well, but I already know two men who would fall for you exactly as you are.”
I feel my cheeks blush but try to hold it together. “You’re a really nice criminal, you know.”
I wish I could figure out what he did to get sanctioned down here with me, but I’m starting to be okay with not knowing.
“You’re…” He stutters, “No, you’re not very nice.”
My eyes roll back. “Yeah, you’re just mad I don’t wanna suck your dick too.”
“Fuck yeah, I am.”
We fall into laughter, then an easy rhythm, whispering about life, about people we care for, about moments that have mattered. I don’t tell him anything important, nothing about my family’s secrets or power, just the pieces of me that are soft, that feel human.
By the time sleep starts to weigh down my eyelids, lulled by the gentle cadence of his voice and the faint hum of the ventilation, I almost forget where I am—almost feel safe.
Chapter 41
Nikolai
She’s infuriating. Every time I’m near her, my control slips a little. The longer I’m around her, the more I like her—the more I remember her. I’ve held onto the image of Aurelia from six years ago much longer than I should have. But she’s definitely changed since then. Developed an… attitude.
I can’t say I hate it though. It’s like the more she fights me, the more I want to make her beg for my cock. For my heart. To be mine.
It would be easier if she had recognized me. But judging from her unwillingness to fuck me, I’m assuming she hasn’t.
I want to believe she won’t be a problem. She’s supposed to be my solution. But the more I see of her, the more dangerous she becomes. Dangerous because she doesn’t belong to me yet—and even a hint of wanting her, of needing her… my father would kill me for that weakness.
So I throw myself into work, into cleaning up Bratva business, letting violence and power remind me of what I can control.
Tonight it’s eighteen men.
In what feels like a fucking sex dungeon, I let off rounds into each of their skulls.
Eighteen who thought they could form their own little rebellion against Viktor. Stupid bastards.
My father may be pushing seventy, but he’s not senile—and he’s sure as hell not soft.
Throwing the door shut behind me, I fall into the passenger seat of my Phantom Rolls-Royce. Letting my head swing to the right, I gesture to my driver that I’m ready to leave, but then the back door opens.
“Get the fuck out, Maksim,” I growl.
He and Ivan have been more irritating than usual ever since I switched Aurelia’s confinement.
