Page 91 of Lethal Legacy

But he doesn’t know the full truth, remember,Darya Petrovsky whispers in my ear.He knows you’re running from the Orlovs—but he doesn’t know why they want you.

But even the Petrovsky fortune seems insignificant now, in light of his reaction. Why would Roman Stevanovsky trade me for a fortune? Whatever treasures lie in that vault might be considered priceless by most, but Roman has enough money to indulge any desire he might have for priceless treasures. He has no need to traffic me for riches.

Isn’t that one of the very things that drew me to him in the first place? Didn’t I, barely a week ago, collapse on the floor and fervently wish for the hellfire and power Roman possesses?

And yet now I’ve just stood in the face of that hellfire and implied it isn’t enough.

Again, I feel the nervous urge to giggle. I’m being confronted with the wounded pride of one of the proudest men I know.

You fucking idiot, Darya.

“Roman.” I don’t move into the room, but I’m encouraged when he immediately doesn’t cut me dead. “I didn’t think—”

“No,” he says curtly. “You didn’t.”

“I—” I start, then stop.

What do I say?

That I don’t want to leave? That the last thing I ever expected was that he would want me to stay?

Doeshe want me to stay?

I don’t feel like I have any right to ask for anything. And by his rigid stance, the last thing Roman wants right now is reassurance from me.

“I—I’m going to leave. Go back to my apartment,” I add hastily. I pause, but Roman doesn’t say anything. “I’ll wait to... hear from you, before I go to see the children.” I pause nervously by the elevator doors, part of me hoping that he’ll turn around and tell me to stay where I am. Maybe throw me down on his sofa and punish me in his own way.

That thought is dangerous. It’s also stupid. The chances of Roman Stevanovsky ever throwing me down anywhere, ever again, are less than slim.

The doors slide open and I walk into the elevator, trying not to think of how much that thought hurts.

The last thing I see before the doors close is Roman’s back, stiff and uncompromising.

The elevator drops, taking my spirits with it.

27

ROMAN

Ihear Lucia leave.

I don’t trust myself to stop her. I’m almost afraid of what I might do if I get my hands on her right now.

The fact that she doubts my ability to protect her?

That makes me want to snarl like some primitive caveman and tear down the fucking walls.

As for thinking that I would considertradingher, like some kind of livestock? To the fuckingOrlovs?

“Fuck!”I grip the back of one of the dining chairs, forcing myself to breathe instead of hurling it through the plate glass window. I’m beyond furious. I’m fuckingoutraged.

I have a dark, primal urge to summon Lucia back to my penthouse. To mindlessly tear her clothes off for the second time, then take my savagery out on her body until she knows, without any shadow of a doubt, who she belongs to. What it actually means to bemine.To own her so completely that she realizes how insane it is to evensuggestthat I might fail to protect her.

I grind my teeth, still battling for control.

The only reason she’s not horizontal underneath me is because whatever tiny fragment of rational thought I’m capable of right now knows that, for once, sex isn’t the answer.

Lucia is terrified.

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