I’m going back because he’s the only predator who’s decided not to eat me.
I close my eyes and lean back against the leather seat, feeling the air conditioning wash over my face.
I don’t know what’s real anymore.
I don’t know what’s a lie, what’s protection, what’s manipulation. I don’t know if the man sitting next to me is my savior or my captor or both.
All I know is that I’ve almost died twice today.
And Green Eyes?
He’s the reason I’m still breathing.
21
Mary
The silence in the SUV is suffocating.
Vegas slides past; neon, palm trees, people just… living. Not flinching at every shadow.
Not almost dying twice before dinner.
Not carrying the smell of blood in their hair like I do.
The man driving hasn’t said a word since we left Rodriguez’s body. Tall, intimidating, with ice-cold eyes that keep flicking to me in the rearview mirror. He handles the SUV like he handles everything else—precise, controlled, deadly.
And beside me, the man who saved my life.Twice.
I still don’t even know his name.
“What’s your… name?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He turns to look at me. “Anton.”
I wait for more. A last name. An explanation. Anything.
He slowly tilts his head, eyes locked on mine. Not a full turn; just a glance from under his lashes, like a side-eye laced with warning.
It should feel dismissive. Cold. But it doesn’t.
It feels like he’s peeling me open with that look. Like he already knows every secret I haven’t said out loud.
“Anton Malikov.”
Oh, my God.
Even his name sounds dangerous. Russian. Heavy with consonants that feel like threats.
“Anton,” I repeat, testing it. It tastes foreign on my tongue. Harsh. Nothing like the safe, boring names from my old life.
He doesn’t ask for mine. He already knows everything about me: where I live, where I work, what I keep in my purse. I’m the open book. He’s the locked vault.
The SUV turns into the underground garage of his building, and I realize we’re back. Back to the penthouse that’s become my prison. Or my sanctuary. I can’t tell the difference anymore.
Anton’s phone buzzes. He glances at it, types something back.
“They’re waiting,” he says.
