It’s predictable. It’s pathetic. It makes me want to kill him slowly.
“Her father is safe,” I remind him. “Kostya couldn’t get to him even if he wanted to. It was just a scare tactic.”
“Maybe you’d like to mention that to her,” he suggests. “Just to put her at ease.”
“That will be all,” I answer, glaring at him.
Petya doesn’t argue. He never does. Yet he and I both know that I’m being an ass for no reason. I’m proving my authority just because I can, but my cruelty is unnecessary. To him and to Alina.
The door closes softly behind him, leaving me alone with the silence and the anger and the image of Belov standing too close to her in a room that should have been safe.
I stare at the city until the lights blur.
Then I pull out my phone and text the guard who’s been assigned to her.
Send her to me.
She walks into my office a few minutes later without hesitation or fear. She also doesn’t apologize for entering without knocking. She’s full of that same quiet strength that’s been undoing me piece by piece since the night we met.
For a second, I forget why I’m angry. All I can think about is pulling her into my arms and kissing her senseless.
Then I remember the footage and the familiarity Kostya showed her. I can’t stand to watch it. I need to hear from her exactly what happened.
“Tell me everything about your encounter with Kostya,” I demand without greeting her.
Her spine straightens immediately and I watch as her guard goes up. She’s not going to put up with my shit, and I love her for that.
“I was folding laundry,” she replies coolly, eyeing me with derision. “Then my he climbed through my window and started lying. I pressed the button like I promised I would. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”
Defiance flashes in her eyes, sharp and bright. Normally I’d admire it, but right now it feels like fuel on a fire I’m barely containing.
“That isn’t all that happened,” I remind her. “You were the one who opened the window.”
It’s almost an accusation, like I’m trying to catch her out. Like I think she’s going to lie to me.
“Yes, I did,” she answers. “And I pressed the alarm to alert your guards that he was there. Which you already know.”
My jaw tightens. She’s right. I do know. I watched the guards close in before he even finished speaking. That isn’t the point.
“You let him inside your home,” I press. “You wanted him there.”
Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t,” she protests. “But I’m starting to wonder if you did. Did you send me to my apartment just to lay a trap for him? Was that your plan?”
The calm logic in her voice makes something snap.
I snap at her. “You were safely sent to your apartment with men to protect you. You were never in any danger.”
“You could have told me!” she shrieks back. “I’m not a pawn in some game of yours. Or maybe I am. Maybe you’ve been lying to me this whole time, and you’re the monster Kostya says you are.”
“How dare you accuse me of that!” I nearly roar. “I would never hurt you. I’ve done nothing but protect you and keep you safe this whole time. I’ve put my own safety at risk for you. Don’t youeveraccuse me of trying to hurt you.”
“Then don’t accuse me of doing something I didn’t do,” she shoots back coldly. “I didn’t want Kostya there, and I only let him in so I could tell him off. I hate him. Do you understand that? I absolutely loathe him. So you have no reason to treat me like I’m a traitor.”
“He put his hand on you,” I seethe.
“And I pulled away,” she says softly, though there’s still rage behind her eyes. “The idea of him touching me repulses me.”
My mind flashes back to the footage anyway. The way he stepped closer. The way he reached for her. The way he said her name. Rage surges fast and irrational and impossible to justify.
