"You're not telling me everything."
"What do you want to know?" What could I possibly tell her that I haven't yet?
"The woman in your wallet, Maksym. Who was she? She was special to you, and something tells me her identity is a key to you."
I can't. I fucking can't, not when she's still wrapped around my cock, my sweat still drying on her skin while we come down from what we just did.
I lift her off me and settle her on her feet, and a dark heaviness settles on me. "You ask too many questions," I tell her. Whatever magic we just shared is gone as quickly as a flash of lightning, lighting the sky then vanishing, leaving only darkness.
I've been a fool to think this could work. A fucking fool.
"Go clean up," I tell her. I can't bear to see the look of betrayal in her eyes. I can't bear to know I put that there.
But when she doesn't move, I harden my voice. "What did I tell you?"
Her head hung low, she walks away from me and when she walks away, she takes a piece of me with her.
I close my eyes. I wish she had asked me literally anything but that.
My phone rings. It's Demyan.Chapter 16Olena
walk to the bathroom, knowing that something was lost in that moment. Hope? He shut me down. Tears burn my eyes as I go do what he told me to.
God, what we've shared... so much intimacy. So much pain. And now he shuts down.
I shouldn't have asked him, but I had to know. If what I feel for him is real, then I need to know his past, and I don't. I know hardly anything about him. Who he is, what he was. And hell, I need to know.
But I'm no more important to him than I've ever been to any of them. To my mother. My father.
I've been blinded by so many things.
The heat between us, the way he masters my body so easily, so perfectly.
What we've shared... our pain, and our past.
Hope for the future.
And if I'm honest?
The power he holds to destroy my father.
But I've allowed myself to fall for a man who can't ever reciprocate.
When I first came here, I vowed that I would escape.
It's time I formulate another plan. It's time I left.
He's put his shields up, so hard and so fast, I can't see the man for who he is anymore.
For a time, I thought that maybe our coming together, no matter how unorthodox that was, was a twist of fate. The man I saw back when my father took him prisoner is not the man I'm with now. I can't stay here. There is no hope for me here and less with The Thieves, so I have to leave.
He's talking to someone on the phone, but he must have left his bedroom, because his voice fades. I have to plan how to get out of here. While I clean myself up, I take a shower and formulate a plan.
If I could get someone to help me...
Larissa. She is the one who shows me sympathy. If I can manage to get her on my side... hell, she may already be on my side.
I quickly finish showering, leave the bathroom, and head to the bedroom. He isn't here. I look around in surprise, expecting that he's probably in the kitchen or living room, but I'm shocked when I find he isn't here at all. My heart hammers in my chest.
Now is my chance. I have to take advantage of this opportunity.
I have nothing but the clothes on my back, but I know where he keeps his wallet. If I could find it... I open the drawer on the bedside table, but his wallet is gone.
Shit.
He might have taken it with him. It was my own fault for asking him about the woman. Obviously, he loved her. And obviously that's none of my damn business.
I look around, trying to find something at all I can take with me, when I see his wallet lying on the dresser. I run to it, open it, and the picture falls out. I can't even look at it. I shove it back in and remove the money he has in there and several credit cards, and shove them in my bra.
My throat tightens. I can't believe I'm doing this. It's so stupid, so foolish. But I can't let myself be swayed by feelings when pure logic tells me everything about our relationship is wrong. Literally everything. I've been dragged into this situation because of my father.
And my father's associates run a trafficking ring in America.
I can't trust the authorities, because Maksym himself has told me that they're as corrupt as the organizations I'm running from.
I open the door to the apartment, looking for Maksym. I half expect him to find me. To capture me and punish me. I'm not allowed to leave this room, and my logical brain reminds me, "Isn't that wrong? True feelings are born of freedom, not captivity."