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I don’t respond. I just pull out Davina’s chair and guide her into it, positioning myself between her and Avrorin for the rest of the evening.

The dinner proceeds as these things always do. Avrorin talks, I listen, and we circle around the real negotiations without ever directly addressing them. Davina sits beside me, picking at her food and watching everything.

Davina’s planning again. I can see it in the way she holds herself, the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her gaze keeps drifting toward the door.

I lean close, my lips near her ear. “Don’t even think about it.”

She stiffens but doesn’t turn toward me. “Think about what?”

“Running. There are six armed men between you and the exit, and Avrorin’s people are not known for their restraint with women who wander into their territory.”

“I wasn’t planning to run.”

“Then stop looking for exits.”

She finally turns to face me, and I can see the anger simmering beneath her composure. “You can’t keep me locked up forever.”

“Watch me.”

Avrorin chooses that moment to lean across the table. “You two seem close,” he says with a knowing smile. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Maxim?”

“She’s under my protection.”

“Protection.” He rolls the word around like he’s tasting it. “That’s an interesting word. In my experience, men don’t protect women unless they’re planning to keep them.”

The implication is clear, and it makes something hot and violent flare in my chest. Avrorin is watching me with those shrewd eyes, waiting to see how I’ll react.

“She’s not for discussion,” I say. “Let’s move on to the matter of the shipping routes.”

Avrorin laughs, but he lets the subject drop. For the rest of the dinner, I catch him looking at Davina when he thinks I’m not watching. Each time, I have to suppress the urge to reach across the table and put my fist through his face.

She’s mine. The thought comes unbidden, because she’s mine to protect. Mine to keep.

I don’t examine it too closely.

***

The dinner ends late. We leave through the back entrance, where the car is waiting, and I’m grateful for the quiet after Avrorin’s endless noise.

Davina slides into the seat beside me, and I can feel the tension radiating from her body. She’s still angry.

I’m so focused on her that I almost miss the car behind us.

It appears as we turn onto the main road, headlights in the mirror that weren’t there before. I watch it for a moment, noting the distance, the speed, the way it seems to be matching our pace rather than passing.

“Andrei,” I say quietly. “We have company.”

He looks in the side mirror and nods. “I see it.”

I reach for the panel that controls the privacy screen between us and the driver. “Get us out of the city. Take the northern route.”

The car accelerates smoothly, but the vehicle behind us matches our speed. I watch as another set of headlights appears from a side street, cutting in front of us.

There are two cars in a box formation.

“Who is it?” Davina asks, her voice tight.

I don’t answer. I’m running through possibilities, eliminating options, trying to figure out who would be bold enough to move against me in my own territory.