Lev doesn’t argue. He simply tugs me up to my feet and releases my arm and walks away like this is all routine—dragging back runaway girls to their furious keepers. He leaves the same way we’d come, the door shutting behind him with a screech and a soft click of the latch, sealing me in with the man I’d risked my life to run from.
For a moment, we’re both silent. Unmoving.
I know I should step back and put some distance between us. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to do exactly that—to create space in order to protect myself, to run again if I can—but my feet stay rooted to the ground no matter how hard I try to move them.
His eyes drag over me from head to toe in a slow, deliberate sweep, cataloging everything from the smudges on my jeans from being dragged into this shop, the dirt on my sweater from throwing myself over the hood of that guy’s car, and even how I’m still catching my breath. He sees the strain in my posture. The shaking in my finger.
He lets me stand there in this awful quiet while he’s deciding exactly how much trouble I’m in. Or worse, exactly how much he’s going toenjoymaking me pay for embarrassing him.
I open my mouth to speak, to apologize or… explain or maybe just plead for my life, but he doesn’t let a single syllable leave my lips.
“Don’t,” he says sharply, and my jaw snaps shut like a trap. “I’m not in the mood for your lies today, Ivy.”
He circles me like a panther then, slowly, with his hands fisted loosely at his sides. I can’t help how quickly my eyes dart down to his hip, to the place where his companion’s gun had been strapped and checking to see if he is wearing a matching set.
Relief floods through me when I realize there isn’t one there.
But it only lasts for a moment
“Tell me something. Did you really think you could disappear and I wouldn’t find you? That this city,mycity, would protect you from me?”
My throat tightens.
“You don’t know what you’ve done, running away like that,” he murmurs, and for a second, there’s something softer beneath his voice. Sadness, maybe. Or disappointment. But it vanishes as quickly as it comes.
“Please,” I choke out. “Let me go.”
19
MAKSIM
It was rather bold of her to try and escape.
Foolish, yes.
Dangerous, absolutely.
But bold.
I have to give her that much credit, even if thinking about it makes my jaw ache from how tightly I’ve been clenching my teeth since Matvey’s frantic alerts came through on my phone halfway into what had been the start of a perfectly good afternoon.
One second, I’m discussing expansion numbers for one of my shipping fronts while my staff had been tidying around me, getting the compound ready to welcome a set of new clients to a formal dinner later tonight, and the next, mysledopytis in my ear telling me our captive American has bolted from the property before myshestyorkaeven knew she was gone.
I knew she had spirit, I just didn’t think she’d be reckless enough to test me like this. And so soon.
The only thing standing between her and a far worse consequence is Lev—who, by some miracle of timing, was already out on a job not far from the area and caught her wandering the street like a tourist lost without a travel guide.
Lev had grabbed her within seconds, hauling her to the nearest store front we owned before calling me.
Arriving here, when I first walked into this back room, I had been expecting to find her exactly as she always is—a little scared, but sharp-eyed and simmering with unfettered anger beneath it. I expected the usual glare. The smart mouth.
But this?
This shaking, whimpering thing standing in front of me?
This is notmyIvy.
She won’t meet my eyes. Her arms are crossed, yes, but not out of defiance like I’m used to. This time, they seem to be holding her together, a flimsy brace for the way her entire frame trembles like she might come apart at the seams.
