Page 14 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

His message was a personal attack. And I was going to make damn sure that everyone would fear trying me again.

The room was too quiet after Mikhail and Yuri left. The air felt thick, the weight of what I was about to do settling over me.I walked to the window, staring out at the New York skyline, my thoughts racing. I had built my empire on control—control over myself, over my men, over my enemies. But Lily... her very existence tested the bounds of what I was capable of.

I couldn't lose control, not over anything.

The door creaked open behind me, and I didn't need to turn around to know it was Vadim.

"They're ready to make the move," he said quietly.

"Good," I replied, not taking my eyes off the city. "No hesitation. Make sure Petrov knows the consequences of testing me."

Vadim hesitated for a moment, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. "Is this... about her?" he asked carefully.

I turned then, my expression hard. "This is about sending a message. No one touches what's mine."

Vadim nodded, understanding. There was no more to say. He left me alone again, the door clicking shut, and I let out a slow breath, trying to rein in the anger that had been brewing inside me since the note arrived.

But I couldn't stop thinking about her—about Lily. She didn't know the danger she was in. She didn't understand the world she had been pulled into, and the fact that she thought she could handle it on her own only made things worse. She was stubborn, strong-willed, but that wasn't enough to protect her from men like Petrov. That wasn't enough to survive in this world.

I needed to tell her. She had to understand the severity of the situation. I wouldn't let her walk around blind to the danger that lurked around every corner. She needed to know what was at stake.

I found her later that evening, sitting in one of the smaller sitting rooms, a book in her hands. She looked up when I entered, her expression as guarded as it always was when we were alone. There was something about the way she looked atme, like she was constantly trying to figure me out, trying to understand the man behind the mask. It made me uneasy, and I hated it.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice harsher than I intended.

She raised an eyebrow, closing the book with a soft thud. "About what?"

"About the fact that your life is in danger," I replied, crossing the room in a few quick strides. I could see her tense, but she didn't back down. She hardly ever did.

"Whose life isn't in danger around you?" she shot back, her tone sharp, but there was an edge of fear in her eyes, one she was trying to hide.

"This is different," I said, stopping in front of her. "Someone is trying to get to me through you. A rival. He thinks you're vulnerable."

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't respond immediately. I watched as the realization dawned on her, the fear she had been trying so hard to suppress flickering across her face.

"Who?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"Petrov," I answered. "He sent me a message this morning. A warning. He knows you're not from our world. He thinks you're a weakness."

Her jaw clenched, and she stood up, squaring her shoulders. "I'm not weak."

I couldn't help the surge of frustration that rose up in me. "I didn't say you were weak," I snapped sharply, then ran a hand over my face. "You don't understand how dangerous this is. You don't know what these people are capable of."

"I can handle myself," she insisted, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I don't need your protection."

I stepped closer, my hands balling into fists at my sides as I fought to keep my temper in check. She had no idea what she was talking about. She had no idea how close she was to beingused, to being hurt. And the thought of her in Petrov's hands, of anyone even thinking about laying a hand on her, made something inside me snap.

"Who's giving you a choice?" I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "You're under my protection, whether you want it or not. No one touches you."

Her breath hitched, her eyes widening as she stared up at me. There it was again—that spark, that unspoken electricity that had been building between us since the moment we met. I could feel it, like a live wire humming between us, threatening to explode.

"Nikita..." she started, but her voice faltered.

"No," I cut her off, stepping closer until there was barely any space between us. My hand shot out, gripping her elbow, pulling her against me. "No one touches you. Ever. Not while you're mine."

Her eyes flashed with something—fear, anger, confusion—but she didn't pull away. I could see the effect I was having on her, could see the way her breath came faster, her chest rising and falling with every word.

"This isn't about you protecting me," she said, her voice trembling. "This is about control."

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