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She released me. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t eaten since Riley forced half a croissant into my hand earlier today.”
“That was six hours ago,” I scolded her.
“I know. You can spank me for that later.”
With a mockingly stern shake of my head, I went into the kitchen and heated up the rest of the pelmeni while Alessia changed. She returned wearing my black shirt over bare legs, her hair loose around her shoulders and the collar visible against her throat. The sight of it pulled something hard and possessive through my chest. She climbed onto one of the stools at the island while I put a plate in front of her. I sat down on the stool beside her.
“Dmitry thinks I’m your weakness,” she murmured.
“You are,” I replied.
Her brows drew together.
“So are my brothers,” I added. “So is every person at Maxim’s table. Caring about someone creates a place where an enemy can cut. Each one is something that can be exploited.”
“So can anger. Pride. Greed. The fact that Nikolai apparently cannot walk past a fight without volunteering his face,” she responded, cocking her head.
A small breath escaped me. I didn’t laugh, but it was close enough that her mouth softened.
“I know what Raffaele did for you,” she whispered. “I know he took you out of the apartment and made sure Mila was buried beneath her own name. I know the Volkovs punished the Bellandis afterward because my father interfered. Was that debt the only reason you came for me?” she asked.
I swallowed hard, taking a moment to think things through.
“The debt brought me to New York,” I finally answered. “It put me inside that private room with you.”
Her eyes remained on mine.
“It didn’t make me bring you into my home. It didn’t make me learn how you take your coffee. It didn’t make me want you.”
Her lips parted.
“You are not an assignment to me. You’re mine, Alessia. Now and forever,” I continued.
“Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not staying just so my father can congratulate himself for sending the right man.”
A faint smile touched my mouth as Alessia slid from the stool and walked toward the sideboard. She opened the drawer with the key I’d given her and removed the collar’s black box. Inside lay the leash made from the same soft black leather as the collar. The silver clip caught beneath the kitchen light when she lifted it; my body went still.
She crossed back to me. Alessia clipped the leash to the ring at her throat. Then she placed the looped end into my open palm and folded my fingers around it. I closed my hand more firmly around the loop but left the leash slack between us.
“What do you need, little pet?”
She stepped between my knees, her hands settling against my chest.
“I need you,” she said. “Not because Dmitry threatened me. Not because Raffaele asked you to keep me safe, but because I’m here, and I choose you.”
My free hand rose to her face.
“You are mine because you choose to be,” I said. “And I’m yours because I choose you too.”
An open vulnerability moved through her expression before desire warmed it.
“Then show me what it means to be yours, Daddy.”
CHAPTER 20
