Page 35 of Bleed with Me

“And I always catch them,” he reminded me, straightening to his full height. The truth in that sentence made the room colder.

“You stay in this room,” he ordered, moving to the door like he expected it to detonate.

“I need fresh air,” I whined.

“You don’t.”

“Oh, I do.” I lifted the jug of hospital water, trying to make him understand my suffering. “This vintage is terrible.”

He rolled his eyes and disappeared before I could destroy the lie I crafted for the past few minutes. Thank God, because I almost shouted into his face: Don’t touch her. She’s mine.

The door clicked quietly behind him, leaving me with suffocating anxiety clutching my chest. He was on a mission, and instead of being happy that he craved to avenge me and send a message to everyone that our family was untouchable, I was… I didn’t even know what I was.

Conflicted? Maybe.

Confused? Probably.

Enchanted? Absolutely.

You’re fucking crazy, the demon voiced the obvious. Protecting the woman who nearly killed you.

“Like I didn’t know that,” I hissed under my breath. Sure, that strong need to protect my wife was unexpected. But I couldn’t let Malin hurt her. He would touch her only over my dead body.

She was mine to punish for this chaos in my head, the confusion swirling in my chest, and the endless thoughts she left behind. No other woman had ever made me obsess over a pair of gorgeous eyes, bold actions, and a mouth skilled enough to ruin my common sense. She forced me to submit, and because of that, I couldn’t let her go. She imprinted herself into my brain.

“Fuck,” I groaned, rubbing my eyes. “I need a distraction.”

Of course, the demon mocked. Find another masked psychopath to balance the scales.

“Oh, shut up,” I muttered, peeling the pulse oximeter off my finger. He wasn’t usually this annoying.

I slid off the bed and stepped into the hall. Sasha glanced at me from down the corridor, but didn’t block the exit and didn’t ask questions. He simply nodded in silent acknowledgment. I walked away with the relaxed confidence of a man who absolutely didn’t have a secret wife hiding somewhere in the city plotting her next insanity.

The elevator doors closed and silence pressed in. My mind immediately filled with her. A muffled groan slipped past my lips as I returned to that dusty old house. Leather, mask, brown eyes surrounded by that thin dark ring that glowed with borderline obsession. Gloved fingers brushing my shirt open like it was a ritual. The wicked glint when she swallowed me whole and left me gasping. The way her voice trembled only once, when she pressed the gun to my hand and threatened my ability to operate.

She wanted me so badly she bought an illegal serum from whatever pit sold it, kidnapped me from my brother’s casino, dragged me into an ancient house that barely stood, and staged my death. What was it if not terrifyingly impressive?

My upbringing screamed that this outrageousness had to be punished. The correct protocol was simple: track, corner, crush. The exact thing Malin was doing. But another part of me claimed it was outstanding foreplay. When I remembered the way I begged her when she denied me release, shivers ran down my spine. The way she looked at me was like she would devour every cell in my body and wear the memory like jewelry.

My dick stirred to life, like a creature with no survival instinct. Malin’s bullets, Bratva politics, the staged cliff accident, none of it mattered to the idiot. One blowjob and he was loyal for life.

Wonderful. I survived a designer poison only to wake up with a brain full of chaos and a cock with attachment issues.

By the time I reached my office floor, my brain was a messy playground of mafia logic and sexual obsession. Great balance and perfect mental stability. My psychiatrist would’ve had a stroke if I had one.

The hallway was empty. Only two other doctors were here with me, and it was too soon for the cleaning lady to show up, dust the massive plants, and wipe the invisible dirt from the pristine floor.

Opening the door into my office, my gaze naturally landed on the sofa opposite the entrance, and I froze. She sat on my couch as if she owned it, one leg crossed over the other, leather hugging every sinful line. A new Venetian white mask hid her face. The gun rested casually on her thigh. She looked just like I remembered, elegant, bold, and absolutely stunning.

My heart slammed against my ribcage painfully. Half an hour ago, Malin assured me that no one would enter the hospital unnoticed. And still, here she was, staring at me like she knew she had already owned my every fucking thought.

-22-

Nina

The moment the door opened, my lungs forgot how to function. Three endless days of watching Dorian hover between life and death collapsed into a single electric jolt that shot through my veins so violently I almost screamed. There he was, frozen in the doorway of his office, with that stupid, breathtaking face that ruined my mental stability.

A brief flicker of shock crossed his face, and a spark of destructive fire ignited behind his hazel eyes. It was so strong that it made my thighs press together.