Page 143 of Unhinged

I kneel. The zipper’s broken, the contents spilling on the floor.

One by one, I start pulling things out.

I’m a failure. I’ve escaped warlords, Bratva, entire syndicates. I’ve walked through fire and emerged unscathed.

I can’t escape one man?

Sweatshirt, passport. Toothbrush, cards. The backup IDs I forged weeks ago.

My hands tremble. My chest is too tight. My heart aches.

Every time I set something on the floor, it feels like I’m removing a strip of armor.

I feel him behind me. Watching. Waiting. Simmering.

When I’m done, I rise slowly. I don’t turn to face him yet; I can’t.

“Done?” His voice is raw and possessive, calm water to mask the churning anger.

I nod. “For now.”

He’s behind me in seconds, his hands curling around my waist. His chest presses to my back before he spins me around to look at him. He tilts my chin up, searching my face, as if demanding the truth from my gaze before my words.

“Say it, Anissa. Tell me that you’re mine.”

He wants the words, but if I say them, I can’t take them back. If I say them, I belong to him—no more escape plans. No more exits.

Just him. Just us. Justthis.

So I don’t give him what he wants right away. How can it be true?How?

I’ve never belonged to anyone before. I never believed I could. He’s not just asking for possession. He’s offeringeverything.

And it terrifies me.

I should tell him no one gets to claim me. That if I want to walk away…

“I can’t be yours, Matvei.” I hang my head. This is where it ends. This is where he sees it, what I’ve always feared—I’m not enough.

With a brutal tug, he spins me around to look at him, his hand beneath my chin. “Like fuck, you can’t.” His eyes gleam with possession, his grip immovable.

I press my forehead to his chest, letting myself breathe in his scent.

I stumble over my words. I need to say it out loud.

“I can’t give you children, Matvei. I know. I-I watched the video.”

“What video?” he asks, deadly quiet, the kind that makes my heart thump harder.

“The-the promise you made. About your vow to uphold. To Rafail?—”

He doesn’t let me finish but grabs my jaw gently but firmly and makes me look at him.

“You watched it,” he says slowly. “And then you decided, on your own, without a single fucking word to me, that we were done? That you were going to run?”

I blink. A tear rolls down my cheek.

I try to pull back, but he holds me there, fierce and immovable.

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