I still haven’t figured out his plan, but I will soon. If he’s going to remain secretive, I’ll have no choice but to take this to the next step.
Sergei appointed Kyle as a director, but his position doesn’t require him to be present on an everyday basis. Even so, he still shows up by my side as if he’s my senior bodyguard or something, and that makes it hard to concentrate on work and meetings, like right now. The more I ignore him, the darker his shadow perches on my life.
“That’s it for today,” I tell one of the directors. “Email me the proposal and your suggestions.”
He nods. Rustling of papers fill the conference room before the rest of the board members take their leave as well.
I stand up and grab my bag. On my way to the exit, a strong arm wraps around my stomach and pulls me back against his the ridges of his strong body.
“What are you doing?” I search the room, and thankfully, everyone else has left. Not that Kyle cares either way. He somehow always has his hand on me, whether at the small of my back, on my nape, my thigh, my hand—everywhere, basically. It’s like he can’t stop touching me or something,
“I’m taking you out for lunch.”
“I don’t want lunch. I have paperwork to finish.”
“You can finish it after lunch.”
“Or I can finish it now.”
“Or you can go with me and eat. You didn’t have a proper breakfast this morning.”
I hate that he notices the little things. He shouldn’t. That’s not how this is supposed to be.
“Whether I eat or not is none of your concern.”
“Of course it is. I can’t have my wife faint due to malnutrition.”
“My answer is still no.”
“You can go willingly or I can just kidnap you. I don’t have to tell you which option I would prefer, do I?” He winks, and I’m tempted to claw his eyes out.
It’s useless to fight him when he decides to be his awfully protective self. It’s a side of Kyle I haven’t witnessed a lot before, but it doesn’t affect me as much as I thought it would. Maybe because now I know what he truly is, who he truly is, so I don’t see it as protectiveness but as another way to manipulate me. After all, the reason he approached me was to get information and destroy those I love through me.
Shooing those thoughts away, I pull away from him and head to the parking lot. This is my chance to take this further. We don’t have time to waste—we never did—but I guess during the time I’ve been pretending I’ve lost my memories, I was hoping to unravel something from him and not have to do this.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I get in the car first and fasten my seatbelt, then type a text to Vlad.
Rai: Are you free?
Vladimir: Depends on the reason.
Rai: What if I told you I can get you the one who knows about the Irish’s plans?
Vladimir: Then I can carve out time.
Rai: You might have to torture the answers out of him.
Vladimir: You say that as if it’s a chore.
I know full well it isn’t. Vlad specializes in torturing, and it’s one of the reasons why he has a scary reputation. He’s the type who doesn’t stop until he gets answers. Maybe this is why I didn’t want the situation to reach this level.
Kyle climbs into the driver’s seat, and I hide my phone. My fingers brush against the small bottle I’ve been keeping on me since I got out of the hospital. I knew I would have to do this sooner or later.
The vehicle doesn’t move and silence is the only other occupant in the car. I sneak a peek at him and pause at the overly concentrated expression. He’s watching too intently, as if it’s the first time he’s seeing my face.
“What?”
“Just watching how beautiful you are.”
Even though I try hard not to be affected, I can feel the burning in my cheeks. I clear my throat. “Didn’t you say we were going for lunch?”
“We will after I get my fill of you.”
“I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s not going to work.”
He raises a brow. “Do you want to bet?”
“I don’t need to, because I’m one hundred percent sure I never cared about you.”
“You’re so certain for someone who doesn’t remember.”
“I don’t have to remember to be sure of it, I just feel it.”
“Hmm.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side as if he wants to get a better look at me. “Do you know what you used to tell me in the past?”
“I don’t want to know.” Every memory I have with him is filled with anguish and sadness.
“But I want to tell you.” He takes my hand in his. My skin crawls at how he’s touching me with the same hands he’s been planning to kill my family with. “You used to say I’m closed off and I never show you my true self.”