But the instant I got close, she jerked back.
That movement froze me solid. Then she coldly tossed the black phone I'd given her onto the bed. The screen glowed, displaying the permission list for that embedded surveillance software.
"Explain this." Her voice was flat, cold as a blade dipped in ice, stabbing straight into my chest.
I glanced at the screen. My jaw locked.
I had a thousand ways to lie right then. To deflect. To blame Sasha or anyone else.
But I didn't.
"It's military-grade tracking and monitoring software." I met her eyes, voice steady. "For your safety."
"For my safety?" She laughed bitterly, those blue eyes that usually blazed with life now burning with despair and fury. "Nikolai, before you shoved this thing into my life—before you started haunting me like a goddamn ghost, listening to every word I say—did you think for even one second to ask what I wanted?"
"It wasn't necessary."
The words came out before I could stop them. Before I realized how much they'd hurt.
It was like lighting a fuse on a powder keg.
"Not necessary?" She shot to her feet like an enraged lioness, chest heaving, eyes red. "So what the hell am I to you? A pet you need to monitor? Some trophy you keep in a glass case? What gives you the right to strip away my privacy, to play God with my life?"
"Because you were almost turned into street meat today!"
I couldn't hold back the savage fury and gut-wrenching fear anymore. I lunged forward, gripping her shoulders hard, roaring at her. "You think this is those romantic novels you're writing? This is reality! Marchetti's people are watching you in the shadows, and they won't hesitate to blow your head off! If I hadn't been monitoring you, if my men hadn't been positioned ahead of time, you think you'd be standing here lecturing me about privacy and respect?"
"Then I don't want protection built on surveillance and lies!" She thrashed against me wildly, tears finally breaking free, splashing hot on my hands. "Let go of me! You cold-blooded control freak! You don't understand respect at all!"
I stared at the rejection and disappointment cutting through her eyes, feeling like someone had driven a knife into my heart.
She didn't get it. She didn't understand how brutal this world was.
I dropped my hands abruptly and stepped back. The air was filled with suffocating silence, only her choked sobs remaining.
"You're too naive, Vivienne." I took a deep breath, looking at her coldly, forcing every emotion down. "On my territory, survival always trumps your ridiculous pride."
I turned and walked out without looking back, slamming the door behind me.
The study was dark.
I threw myself into the massive walnut chair, darkness swallowing me whole.
I lit a cigar, the crimson ember flickering in the blackness, but the harsh nicotine couldn't touch the savage restlessness churning inside me.
I knew what I'd done. I knew exactly why.
From the day I climbed over mountains of corpses to claim the Pakhan seat, I'd learned one brutal truth: trust gets people killed. Only absolute control brings absolute safety.
I'd used it to protect my family, my men. Now I was using it to protect the only woman I'd ever cared about.
I thought she'd understand. I thought when that car nearly clipped her body, she'd see why my control was necessary. But she didn't. Her head was full of naive, fragile notions about "respect" and "freedom." She thought I was unreasonable. Sick.
And what killed me—what left me feeling helpless—was that I didn't know what else I could give her besides keeping her locked in my sight, under my control.
My gaze drifted slowly across the desk.
Next to the keyboard lay a pink ballpoint pen. She'd left it there these past evenings when she kept me company in the study, always tossing her things around carelessly. The plastic cap still had tiny teeth marks where she'd chewed it.
