Page 46 of Carved in Ruin

“Too bad for you, I don’t give a shit what you want. My ring is going on your finger, Mila. It doesn’t matter if you hate me or if you hate yourself for loving me. This is happening.You’re mine.You don’t get to act like we’re strangers, like what happened between us doesn’t matter.” He says. “You owe me. And now you’ll spend the rest of your life making it up to me. You thought if I marry your sister, you could just forget the past, forget all about me, didn’t you? This way, you won’t ever forget me, or what you’ve done to me.”

“I hate you,” I hiss, my voice cracking. My hands grab his collar, yanking him closer, and I shout it louder, “I hate you so much!”

And he just stares at me, the bastard, so calm, so infuriatingly calm, like he’s soaking in my fury andthrivingoff it.

“Don’t scream too much, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine like a promise, a threat. “You’ll need your voice to say,‘I do.’”

I want to laugh, cry, and scream all at once.

Twenty Two

Bound to Burn

Rafael

My hands scrape against the clay. My fingers shape the curve of her neck, the delicate rise of her collarbones, the soft swell of her breasts. I don’t need a picture of her to guide me—I have every inch of her memorized.

The wedding is tonight, and I’ve made sure there won’t be any surprises. No chance for her to run, no chance for Milos to pull some last-minute stunt.

The door creaks open and I throw a tarp over the statue. It’s too intimate, too real for anyone else to see. It’s for my eyes only.

“Congratulations, groom,” Anatoly says, his voice laced with mockery as he steps inside.

I scoff, shaking my head as I go to the sink to wash the clay off my hands. The water runs red-brown as it spirals down the drain. When I return, Anatoly is sprawled in a nearby chair.

“So,” he starts, trying for nonchalance but failing miserably. “What made you change your mind?”

I grab a rag, wiping my hands before tossing it onto the table. “She didn’t care enough about me marrying her sister. She doesn’t get to just walk away, live her life without consequence. I’ll make sure she can’t forget me. If she’s mine, I’ll be her cage. Her prison. ” I say coldly. “This is what she deserves—being stuck with me. Paying for the past every single day.”

“Ah, I see. A mix of spite and punishment. Very noble of you.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “So it’s not because you realized she wasn’t swearing off men? That she has options? That she could date and love after you?”

My control snaps. My fist slams against the table. “Goddamn it,” I snarl, the rage surging through me. She’smine.Mine.Mine.

“No,” I spit, trying to reel myself back in.

“Maybe next time you say that, don’t leave her hair lying around.”

My gaze snaps to him, and then to the strand of her hair on the corner of the table, barely noticeable. My jaw clenches.

“I know what she’s done,” he whispers.

“Andhow,exactly?” I bite out.

Anatoly doesn’t answer right away. My mind races—possibilities turning into accusations. Did Mila tell him? Did she whisper her secrets to him in the dark? Did they get close enough for her to trust him withthat?My chest tightens at the thought, my possessiveness clawing to the surface.

“Layla,” he says finally.

I’m on him in a second, my hand grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet.

“Close enough to talk about family secrets, huh?” I hiss, pulling him close enough to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes. He knows better than to challenge me on this. Layla doesn’t matter, not to me, not the way Mila does, but the principle does.Therespectdoes. If my most loyal man has so much as breathed in the wrong direction, I’ll break him.

“My loyalty lies with you,” Anatoly says firmly. “Always. I would never disrespect you like that,Pakhan.”

“You’d better not,” I growl, pointing a finger at him. “Because if you did—”

“I didn’t, you know me better than that.”

I let go of his collar because I believe him. He’s one of my most trusted men and my instincts never lie.

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