Page 44 of 10 Days to Ruin

His jaw ticks. “You came here willingly.”

“To prove I could resist you.” I stand on shaky legs. “And now, I will.”

“Is that what you call this?” He gestures to the space between us, crackling with electricity and bad decisions dying to be made. “‘Resistance’?”

“Let’s call it a moment of temporary insanity.” I grab my clutch from where it fell. “It won’t happen again.”

He rises in one fluid motion. “You’re lying to yourself.”

“So are you, if you think I’ll ever be yours.”

I hurry through the penthouse. The elevator opens at my touch. Small mercies. One second more in this place is a second too much.

“Ariel—”

I step inside and start jabbing the ground floor button. “Go to hell, Sasha.”

His hand shoots out, stopping the doors before they can close. “You’re forgetting something.”

My self-respect? Yeah, I left it on your rug.

I bite my lip to hold back the words as he steps into my space, crowding me against the mirrored wall. “You’re forgetting that I don’t give up.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Not for that.” He grabs my wrist and stares at me, hard and merciless, the blue at the heart of a flame. Then he lets go and steps away. “I’ll see you soon.”

The doors close on his smirk.

As soon as he’s gone, all the fight dies in me. I slump against the mirror, trembling. My reflection mocks me—swollen lips, wild hair, a woman unraveling.

One day down,I think.

Nine to go.

15

ARIEL

“And that’s it?” Gina balks. “He just let you leave?”

“Well, it’s not like he could lock me inside.”Though a part of me almost, kinda, sorta wished he would.

“Can’t he?” she retorts. “He’s a big, bad Bratvapakhan.Bet there’s a lot of things he can do.”

I take a sip of my triple chocolate mocha latte. After yesterday’s lack of calories, I’m craving everything on the menu.Anymenu, really. “I don’t think he’d do that. Call me crazy, but he just… didn’t give me that vibe. The ‘lock you up and tie you down’ vibe.”

“Bummer,” Gina sighs. “That’s the best vibe there is.”

I’m about to tell her that I’d prefer none of Sasha’s vibes whatsoever, no matter how kinky, when Lora rushes into the café. “Sorry!” she gasps. “Traffic was insane. What’d I miss?”

“Ariel’s still trying to shake off her bad boy billionaire,” Gina informs her. It’s the watered-down version, the one that doesn’t mention my real identity, orhisreal identity, or why this union would be a career-ending move for me, or why refusing it might be a life-ending one. “Her dad wants her to marry him.”

“Sweet baby Jesus!” Lora says in flabbergasted shock. “It’s like men think we’re back in the Fifties. I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, honey.”

“It’s okay. He’s actually kind of hot.”

“Gee!” I snap.

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