Page 40 of My Hunger, Your Soul

“I’ll tear you apart if you keep going on about this, Ivan. Just leave it.”

I smile at that as it would never happen. I would tear him apart first, and he knows it deep down.

“Still dreaming that you could ever take me on, Lev.”

“Shut up, and fuck off. We’re done here.”

Fine by me.

22

TYLER

Today has been a long ass day. I’m walking through the busy streets of New York, desperate to get home from the office. I left the Kozlov residence before lunch and I didn’t tell Ivan I was leaving. After Dima caught us this morning I just wanted to escape. That house is like being on another planet where the rules are different. Normal life doesn’t apply, and you find yourself trying to rationalize what they do to be normal. Leaving there was like stepping through an invisible gate onto another plane. But I still feel anxious, and that's mainly because I expected to hear from Ivan after I left without a word, and I haven’t. His unpredictably again puts me on edge. Has he decided not to bother or am I going to reap the wrath of Ivan? And that excites me more than it should. Because I'm turning into a freak too.

My head is so full of thoughts that surround only Ivan, that I zone out and nearly walk past my building. Just as I approach the door to my building, a tall man in a hoodie with the hood pretty much swallowing his head, bumps into me. That's not uncommon here, but when I turn to glare at him, he stares right back and it throws me. I notice a slight smile, but he turns and disappears into the crowd. That was fucking weird. But every day since I’ve been here has been weird, so nothing should shock me. But of course…it does.

The elevator opens and I jog toward it, but before I have a chance to turn around, a heavy body slams into the back of mine, pushing me up against the metal wall. I drop my work bag from the jolt and immediately start to have palpitations, terrified I’m about to be robbed or hurt. That's until a scratchy beard brushes up against the back of my neck followed by a soft caress of air from his breath as he inhales my skin deeply.Ivan. He growls as he pushes his body harder into the back of mine. He’s so damn strong I can hardly breathe.

“Leaving without saying anything, sweetheart? Did you not listen to a word I said last night?” he says, voice low in warning. So hot.

“I needed to leave, Ivan. I was embarrassed after this morning with Dima,” I say, but Ivan clearly has plans to punish me in some way. He grabs the back of my neck and grips it hard, forcing me to move my head to the side as the side of my face melds into the wall. Ivan’s face is right there, flush against my cheek. It's hard to fully see him from this angle, but I can see the determination in his eyes.

“You need to bury that shit, embarrassment holds no place with me. I do what I want to you, when I want to do it to you and no apologies. You got it?”

“But…my job.”

“Listen and listen good, nobody will fuck with you or your job, do you know why?”

“Why?” I whisper, slutty for his dark response that I know will be as toxic in its meaning, but addictive nonetheless.

“Because anyone who fucks with you, fucks with me. Anyone who fucks with me either dies or loses a limb. So, for the sake of my patience, stop thinking and just live. I’ll deal with the rest, because I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

“Ivan, you can’t say things like that. Nothing is forever.”

The elevator doors open to what I assume is my floor that Ivan must’ve pressed the button for.

“Wrong. But you’ll learn.”

He lets go of me and picks my stuff up off the floor and hands it to me before marching out of the elevator toward my apartment, and I blindly follow. Is my cock hard? Yes. Am I scared of what he just said? Yes, but not because of fear. Excited because maybe life is about risks and I should stop being so rigid about it, like everything has to be perfect. Maybe it's a compromise—his chaos for my structure.

We walk into the apartment and all I can do is focus on Ivan’s strong back as he walks ahead of me into the living room.

“Still not unpacked?” he says, gesturing to the boxes that still remain.

“I’ve been busy,” I say, exhaustion beginning to take over as I try to hold in a yawn.

“Pack some of your shit and let's go.”

“What? I can’t, I need to be in the office tomorrow.”

“You're coming back with me, get your clothes and whatever you need. I’ll bring you to work tomorrow.”

“Ivan, I can’t come and stay with you.”

“I wasn’t asking. This place is depressing and I’m not leaving you here. Get your stuff.”

I hesitate for a moment, and he raises his perfectly groomed dark brow at me, daring me to challenge him. But I’m too fucking tired. Without a word I stomp to my bedroom and pack a few items of clothing and toiletries. I barely know this man and I’m going to stay with him in the mafia mansion, or cartels or whatever you’d call that family.

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