Page 57 of Reckless Royalty

The sight of Mihai, the terrifying, no-nonsense Romanian Mafia Prince, sleeping like a kid in a chair that’s way too small for him… it’s funny. And a little endearing.

I sit up slowly, not wanting to wake him just yet. But the more I look at him, the more I feel this pull—this need to be closer to him. He stayed with me all night. He didn’t have to, but he did. And I can’t ignore the fact that it makes me feel… safe.

Carefully, I slip out of bed, the cold floor making me wince as I tiptoe toward him. I crouch down in front of the chair, balancing on my haunches, and reach out hesitantly.

I place my hand gently on his knee, feeling the warmth of his skin through his jeans.

“Mihai,” I whisper softly, testing the waters, seeing if it’ll wake him.

He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. I can’t help but smile again.

“Mihai,” I say again, a little louder this time, my voice still soft but enough to break through his sleep.

This time, his eyes flutter open. He blinks once, twice, his gaze unfocused as he tries to make sense of where he is. It’s like he doesn’t recognize me at first—like the sight of me crouched in front of him, my hand on his knee, doesn’t compute.

Then, he looks directly at me, his eyes wide with surprise, his body tensing as he realizes he’s not alone. “What the?—”

“Good morning, Mihai,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but clear. Stronger than I expected.

The look on his face is priceless. He freezes, his eyes locking on mine like he’s just seen a ghost. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, and for the first time since I’ve known him, Mihai Vasile looks completely speechless.

“You… you spoke,” he finally manages, his voice rough with disbelief. He blinks again, as if he’s not sure he heard me right, like he’s waiting for me to disappear or something.

I nod, feeling a little self-conscious now, but the look on his face is worth it. The pure, unfiltered shock is followed quickly by something softer, something warmer. He looks almost… proud. Like this tiny step means more to him than I can understand.

I stand up slowly, not quite sure what to do with myself, and he watches me the entire time, like he’s afraid if he looks away, the moment will disappear.

“How…” He shakes his head, running a hand through his messy curls. “How are you feeling?”

I blink at him, not sure how to answer that. How do I explain the mess of emotions swirling inside me? How do I tell him that for the first time in weeks, I don’t feel like I’m drowning? That hearing my own voice, saying his name, felt like taking a breath after being underwater for too long?

I grab my notepad from the nightstand, but instead of writing, I hesitate. My hand hovers over the page, and then I glance up at him.

“I… feel better,” I whisper, my voice shaky, unpracticed, but there. And I mean it. I feel lighter, like some of the weight has lifted off my chest.

Mihai looks at me like I’ve just said something groundbreaking, like hearing those three words from me is the most important thing in the world. His lips pull into a small smile, and I can see the relief in his eyes, the tension melting away from his body.

For a second, he just stares at me, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. Then he sits up straighter, scrubbing a hand over his face as if he’s trying to shake off whatever sleep-induced fog he’s in.

“Holy shit.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. It’s soft, but it’s real, and it feels so good. So much better than I ever thought it would. Mihai’s shock turns to something else—something softer, more like awe—andhe leans forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

Mihai’s smile widens. “You scared the hell out of me.”

I swallow hard, feeling a lump forming in my throat. I want to say more, to tell him how grateful I am that he’s here, that he’s been here from the start, but the words are still stuck somewhere deep inside me.

Instead, I just nod, hoping he understands.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” I say quietly. “You looked like you were sleeping pretty deeply.”

Mihai snorts, shaking his head. “That chair is a goddamn torture device. I’m surprised I didn’t wake up paralyzed.”

I chuckle softly, glancing at his unruly curls. “You should’ve just gotten in the bed. It would’ve been more comfortable.”

His eyes flick to the bed, then back to me, and he raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t think that would’ve been appropriate.”

I laugh again, the sound surprising both of us. “Probably not.”

---