“You didn’t really think you would get rid of me, did you, Princess?”
12
Rai
At first, I think I’m hallucinating. Perhaps this is another play of my imagination, or maybe I’m still asleep and lost in the dreamland where everything is possible.
However, when my eyes clash with his in the darkness of the room, something inside me shatters, and it’s not the same sensation I had the entire day ever since I left him in the warehouse. This one is harsher and leaves me gasping and finding nothing but the distinctive taste of his hand.
His hold on my mouth forbids me from saying anything, but I couldn’t speak even if he allowed me to. It’s like being trapped in an out-of-body experience where I keep levitating with no plans to come down to the ground.
In the dark, his face is shadowed by the night, but due to the small light coming through the balcony, I can still decipher the bruises on his lids, the diagonal cut across his lip, and the smudges of blood all over his face. But even with those, strangely, all I see is the Kyle I knew from before, the arrogant handsome jerk who infuriated me most of the time.
I didn’t think I would forget his face this soon, but isn’t it odd that I can recall exactly how he looked? Or that I can easily imagine that face while I’m sleeping or in my darkest hours?
When he speaks, his voice is quiet, but it feels like being slammed into a sturdy, impenetrable wall. “Here’s the thing. I’m not leaving.”
I mumble against his hand, my body arching off the bed to fight him off. Not that it works. He pins both my wrists above my head and his thighs are caging mine. The position is so familiar to my starved body, but that’s not what I force my brain to focus on.
It’s his words.
What the hell does he mean by saying he won’t leave? I already broke my heart for this, and it needs to be done for everyone’s sake.
I attempt to lift my leg, but his thighs tighten, holding mine in place, and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of my wrist.
“Stop fighting.”
“Mmmm…” I mumble what is supposed to be a ‘Let me go.’
“You should know by now that the harder you fight, the more ruthless I become, so stop it.”
I open my mouth and bite his hand. Kyle groans but doesn’t release me.
“Go ahead, Rai. Do whatever you like. You can bite me, shoot me, or bury me in a construction site, but that won’t change the decision I made. Do you know what that decision is?” I shake my head frantically against his palm, and he lowers his head so he’s speaking in a low tone against my lips. “We made vows, and I intend to keep them. Till death do us part.”
No.
Why can’t he understand that this isn’t only about me? It’s about the brotherhood and his unforgivable betrayal. If Sergei or any of the others find out about what he’s done—and what he’s planning to do—they will execute him Bratva style. I gave him a way out no one would have offered him. I gave him the chance to leave the brotherhood alive, but he just bounced right back.
I buck against him, trying to hit him in the crotch, but he releases my mouth and catches my knee. “I think you got me beaten enough for one day after you betrayed and poisoned me.”
“I didn’t poison you.” They were sleeping pills, and I read the instructions a thousand times before I slipped them in his drink.
“You only handed me over on a platter so Vladimir could do the job for you.” His voice is calm, but I sense the rage beneath it. “You betrayed me.”
“You betrayed me first. You stabbed me in the back first! So excuse me if I stopped your master plan and stood up for myself!”
I wiggle against him with everything I have. I’m well aware that he’s stronger than me and can subdue me easily, but I don’t stop squirming until I free my wrists. I punch him in the chest where he’s already injured, and when he winces, I use the chance to push him down and get on top.
Unlike what I expected, he doesn't fight me or try to wrestle me down. I’m breathing harshly, the sheets tangled around my feet as my thighs splay wide on either side of his taut abdomen. My palms are fisted in his shirt, nails digging into his skin, but Kyle’s hands remain inert on either side of him, as if he doesn’t want to touch me in this state.
It’s for the best, because I feel like I’m one breath away from combusting, and my voice translates the pent-up energy. “Pretend this is seven years ago and leave without looking back.”