He pulled me closer, resting one hand low on my waist. The heat of him seared through the silk of my dress.
Nik leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “You’re beautiful.”
“Anyone wearing a dress that costs as much as—” I started.
His fingers found my chin, and he tilted my face up toward his.
“It’s not the dress,” he said thoughtfully. “Not the hair. Not the makeup. It’s the innocence you’re still trying to hide. The kind that makes men want to ruin you. The kind that can’t be bought or painted on. It’s pure. And it’s all yours, little lamb.”
My throat tightened.
How could a man so brutal…make me melt like this?
I glanced away, trying to breathe past the fluttering in my chest. And as usual, I did what I always did when I didn’t know how to respond.
I deflected.
“Oh, well…thank you. Honestly? I’m surprised you’re not furious with me. I figured I’d never hear from you again—after I torched your credit card and made poor Henri run errands all over New York.”
A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest. “What you spent wasn’t even enough for me to notice.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“I was glad you took care of yourself.” He paused, then added with a smirk, “And Henri said he didn’t mind taking care of you. In fact, he enjoyed getting to know you. Didn’t always enjoy retrieving the ridiculous things you ordered, but he got what you were doing. Thought it was funny that you were trying to be a pain in my ass. Said you’re probably the only one who could get away with that kind of shit.”
I let out a breathy, slightly embarrassed laugh and dropped my head. “But my grand plan to annoy you into texting me back totally failed.”
Nik lifted my chin again.
My heart stuttered, and for a moment I was sure he was going to kiss me—but instead, he pressed his lips to my forehead.
Then he pulled away, sliding his arm snugly around my waist.
The elevator ride seemed to take forever.
My palms were damp, and my heart galloped in my chest. I had no idea what he was planning—only that it felt too elaborate to be a goodbye. Surely he wouldn’t dress me in Chanel just to ship me off to the West Coast with a new name and a clean slate.
Still, uncertainty clawed at my mind.
God, this man. The way he affected me… My entire nervous system had rewired itself to react to his nearness.
I cleared my throat, hoping I could manage a tone that didn’t sound unhinged. “So…where are we going?”
Nik cocked his head, amusement flickering in his pale eyes. “Have patience,” he murmured.
The elevator hummed quietly around us.
Chapter thirty-seven
The second we stepped out of the elevator, I saw a man I recognized from the night Nik had burned through The Sacrifice. He was already waiting, standing beside the open door of a fancy Bentley.
“Hello,” I said politely.
Nik gestured toward him. “Lacey, this is Rory. He’s my second. I trust him with my life—and so can you.”
He said it nonchalantly, as though it were nothing. It was a casual reminder that after three weeks cocooned in Nik’s luxury confinement, I was stepping back into a world where death and violence were an everyday occurrence.
Nik guided me gently inside the vehicle, then settled beside me in the back seat—but his focus was miles away. Rory slid into the front, and with a quiet click, he raised the privacy screen.
