Page 105 of Mile High Daddy

She exhales shakily but doesn’t push me away.

And I know, whether she wants to admit it or not?—

She wants me too.

Lila stays quiet for a long moment, staring down at her plate, her expression unreadable. I watch her, waiting, letting her process everything I just said.

I can see the battle in her eyes—the push and pull between anger and something else.

Some part of her—no matter how small, no matter how much she fights it—wants to be mine just as much as I want her to be.

She exhales sharply, shaking her head before turning back to the tray. She stabs a piece of fruit with her fork, but I can tell she’s not really focused on eating anymore.

“You don’t get to just decide things for people, Mikhail,” she mutters. “That’s not how life works.”

I smirk slightly. “It is in mine.”

She glares at me, but there’s no real heat behind it. “That’s the problem.”

I shift, leaning closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Tell me,kiska,” I murmur, my fingers trailing slowly down the side of her throat, feeling her pulse jump beneath my touch. “Would your life really have been better without me in it?”

She stiffens, but she doesn’t answer.

Because we both know the truth.

She tried to run. She built a new life, started over.

And yet, she still ended up right back in my bed.

Lila swallows, looking away, her walls slamming back up. “I should finish eating.”

The phone buzzes in my hand, my mother’s name flashing on the screen. Perfect timing.

I step away from the bedroom, out onto the small balcony, and answer with a clipped, “Yes?”

“Where the hell are you?” Her voice is sharp, impatient, already digging for information.

I rest one hand against the railing, keeping my tone even. “Handling business.”

A short pause. Then, a scoff. “Handling business?” she repeats. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

I exhale slowly, keeping my irritation in check. “What do you want, Mother?”

“I went looking for Lila’s mother,” she says, her tone deceptively casual. “Imagine my surprise when I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

I don’t react. I expected this.

Silence stretches between us before she speaks again, her voice laced with suspicion.

“You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

I keep my grip firm on the railing, jaw tightening. “I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

“So you hid her?” she snaps.

I close my eyes for a brief second before inhaling deeply. “Let it go, Mother.”

The line goes silent for a beat. Then she exhales a slow, humorless laugh.

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