Page 18 of Bound By Longing

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say, sounding braver than I feel.

After a moment, Damien smiles. “You’re right. I didn’t. To answer your question, yes. I’ve been lost before, but not for a long time now. I’m not that boy any longer.”

“Does this have to do with Mikhail?”

“I’d rather not talk about Mikhail. I’d rather talk about you.” Once again, his finger touches my knee. Subtly, I shift my knee closer.

“What about me?” I’m breathless.

“Why do you feel the need to compare yourself to your sisters? You’re beautiful all on your own, Mila. Any man in this room would want you.”

I blush and avert my gaze. “But I don’t want just any man. I’ve been hurt by men before.”

“Then what is it you’re looking for?”

“My prince charming.” The moment those words escape me, I regret them. Damien laughs like I said the funniest thing in the world. I bristle. “What’s wrong with wanting my prince charming?”

“Nothing. It’s just unrealistic. No man is a prince charming. We all fuck up sooner or later.”

“That’s obvious. You’re definitely not a prince charming.” I shift farther away from him. He eyes the distance between us but doesn’t move closer.

“Throwing insults around, now? I have to say, I’m impressed. When I saw you, I just assumed you’d be a little mouse. You’re proving me wrong. I like it when people prove me wrong.”

A flash of anger courses through me. I’ve been kidnapped and shot at and almost killed by Vladimir, all within a few hours. And now I have to listen to Damien act like I’m something for his amusement. “I don’t need your approval.”

“Little princess has teeth. I like it.”

“I’m not your princess.”

“And I’m not your prince charming.”

“I never asked you to be,” I say.

He leans in closer. “No. But you were thinking it, weren’t you?”

I quickly stand up, my heart pounding fast. “I want to go home. Can’t you let me borrow your phone so I can call for help?”

“I could.” He settles back in the booth, stretching his legs out and making me blush harder. “But I don’t want to.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to be a prisoner.”

“I don’t. You can walk out that door right now. But just fair warning, it’s a dangerous place, Mila.”

I stare down at the crowded dance floor below. All those people yet I feel so alone.

A man approaches our private booth but gets stopped by a guard. “Damien, I wanted to talk to you.” There’s nothing strange about this man. In fact, he’s the opposite. He has an unassuming look to him.

But Damien doesn’t seem to find this man unassuming, given how he tenses and narrows his eyes. “Lev, what the fuck are you doing here?” He says something in Russian next, and the man— Lev—responds in Russian. Because I don’t know the language, I can’t follow along, which makes me feel even more lost and alone.

Lev’s eyes travel over to me, and Damien stands, placing himself between Lev and me. Lev says something in Russian, boring his eyes into me.

“Don’t talk to her,” Damien snaps.

“She doesn’t know Russian?” Lev’s eyes light up. “Who is she, then? American, I hope. They’re always so gullible.”

“Just leave my club. I don’t want you here. My guards will escort you out.”

“Fine. But you should know I’m coming for you, Damien. Sooner or later.”

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