Page 58 of Take Me Darkly

“Noted,” Anton said, closing the topic with absolute finality. “Now. The waterfront acquisition. Stephen forwarded the draft. I have notes on clause two.”

Alexander’s mouth curved. “Of course you do.”

“Is this how your dates usually go?” I chimed in, looking between the two men.

Krystina let out a delighted laugh. “Welcome to my life. These two could conduct an entire board meeting over drinks and expect us to believe they’re having fun.”

“To be fair, it’s not all business,” Alexander said, his expression relaxing into something more openly amused. “I’m also here for the superb wine selection.”

“And the mask,” Krystina said with an arched brow. “You’ve worn that same mask to three events now.”

“It’s a good mask.”

“It’s the first one you found in the closet.”

“Which is how I know it’s a good mask.”

I watched them, struck by the effortless shorthand of their partnership. The simplest thing, like Alexander pushing a loose lock of Krystina’s hair from her forehead seemed meaningful. I felt recognition settle somewhere deep, and I realized that I wanted what Alexander and Krystina had.

I considered the cedar box with the Brutus Denarius coins in the dresser drawer. I thought about Anton’s hand at my back when we walked in. I appreciated his quiet protectiveness more than he knew.

Memories of our time together began to flash in my mind.

The day we met, when he made me feel at ease by daring me to trustfall. Then the subsequent days afterward when he cared for me—a stranger—in his penthouse. I thought about Italy, and all the things he did. Dinner with my mother, and the ease in which the two got along. The way he held me as I fell apart the night her house burned, taking her with it. I remembered when the bullet hit, his arms had been the last thing I felt before the darkness took me. And when I woke in the hospital, he was still there, refusing to leave.

Now here we were, in Club O, his most closely guarded secret. He may have hurt me by not being entirely honest with me at times, but I knew without a doubt that he would move mountains to keep me safe.

I loved him for that and so much more. I just didn’t know how to tell him.

While we still had much to learn about each other, perhaps Anton and I were more like Alexander and Krystina than I realized. I reached for my wine and contemplated my thoughts as the conversation moved from the waterfront property to the crypto market. Here Anton spoke with a fluid, terrifying, brilliant authority. I thought, not for the first time, that I was only ever seeing one face of a man who carried many.

Krystina touched my wrist, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Walk with me?” she asked, tilting her head toward the corridor. “I want to see what they’ve done with the ladies’ lounge. I’ve heard it went through a remodel since I was here last.”

I stood, stepping away from the table without Anton’s arm anchored to mine for the first time all evening. The atmosphere in the club had deepened, now more in line with the music that had shifted to a heavier pulse as the night progressed. The early, well-behaved version of the evening was quietly dissolving, slowly evolving into something darker.

We walked into the ladies’ lounge through a stone archway, met by gilded mirrors and dark velvet seating.

“Anton outdid himself,” Krystina observed, glancing around the luxurious room. “This space used to be far more basic.”

She sat on one of the velvet benches, untying her mask and setting it in her lap, revealing her striking, expressive features. I sat across from her, leaving my mask secured as Anton had instructed. I wasn’t sure if the mask rule applied in here, but I figured it was better to be safe.

“Myla reached out to me,” Krystina said softly.

“She’s been wonderful,” I replied, unsure where the conversation was heading.

“She called me specifically about you,” Krystina revealed with a warm smile. “Our husbands think they run everything, but Myla knows better. She told me you were going through hell and could use a friend—someone who understands what it means to be with a controlling man like Anton.”

“That was kind of her,” I said carefully.

“It was strategic,” Krystina corrected gently. “Myla is fiercely loyal to Anton, and she recognizes someone who is suffocating under the weight of his protection.”

I remained silent, letting her continue.

“I know what it’s like,” Krystina said, her voice dropping into an empathetic tone. “To step into a world of absolute power and try to trust a man who guards his heart like a fortress. Alexander isn’t an easy man. He’s controlling, intense, and he expresses love through protection rather than words. In the beginning, it felt like a gilded cage.”

“It’s suffocating,” I blurted out. The admission slipped past my lips before I could stop it. “He expects absolute trust, yet he keeps his past locked away. I’m an independent woman, Krystina. I’m not used to being managed.”