He ends the call and shoves the phone back into his pocket.
The silence after feels heavier than before.
I search his face. “What happened?”
His gaze lands on mine, unreadable now. Closed.
“My men know who you are.”
For a second, I just stare at him.
Like if I do it long enough the words will rearrange themselves into something less bad.
They don’t.
The office feels smaller all at once. His lap under me. His arm around my waist. The taste of him still in my mouth and the ghost of something almost soft between us turning sharp so fast it makes my skin prickle.
“Your men,” I repeat, because that’s the part my brain catches on first. “As inallof them?”
“Enough of them.”
My stomach drops. “How?”
His jaw flexes. “Kaya’s gone AWOL, we’ve been hunting him. One of his men got picked up by ours trying to sell information.” His eyes stay on mine, cold and hard now. “Your name was in his mouth.”
I go very still. Of course Gabriel would do this. Ruin this for me. For Maksim.
“But I’m Bratva now—” The thought dies as soon as it leaves my mouth.
I’mnotBratva.
I’m a secret. A mistake. The hidden thing my father tucked out of sight and Gabriel used when it suited him.
Maksim’s hands bracket my face. “Hey—”
“No,” I stand, suddenly too aware of my wrinkled dress and pain in my toes from these stupid fucking heels. “What do they want? What do your men want?”
“I—”
“Do they want me to burn this damn thing off?” My voice raises as I gesture to the tattoo on my back. “Want me to leave? Do they want you to kill me?What?What do they want?!”
He’s up and in front of me before I can get another breath in.
One second I’m standing there shaking in his office, the next my back hits the edge of the desk and Maksim’s hands are on my face, hard enough to steady me, careful enough not to bruise.
“No one wants you dead.”
I laugh once, sharp and ugly. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t—”
His fingers tighten at my jaw. Not pain. Command.
“Ayla.”
That one word cuts straight through me.
