Page 106 of Innocent Intentions

“I don’t know. But I’ll find out. When she’s ready.”

“You’re going to have to tell Dom.”

“Not yet. I’ll figure this out first.”

I’m halfway to the door when Roman calls after me, “Take a shower. You smell like burnt flesh, you sick fuck. And you owe me a new pair of jeans.”

“Fuck off.”

“That stench doesn’t come out of clothes. And I had to sit through that shit. You owe me.”

I roll my eyes. “You have millions in the bank. Spend a little. The dark look isn’t in style anymore.”

Roman grins. “Dark works for me. Gets the ladies.”

I don’t bother responding. I leave, already knowing one thing.

The Bratva will never get their hands on my Margot.

Chapter 41

Margot

I wake up to the smell of coffee. Matty sits on the edge of our bed holding a mug. A smile breaks out on my lips at the sight of him.

I sit up, ready to accept the liquid elixir of happiness.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss on my forehead and hands me the cup. His touch is warm and steady. But when I look at his face, I notice the bags under his eyes. The paleness of his complexion. The sadness lingering there.

A pang of concern hits me. Did he not sleep? Is he getting sick?

Then yesterday’s events come crashing back to me.

I’d forgotten, but it sweeps over me like a tidal wave. A hollow ache settles in my chest, but there’s no fear. Not with Matty here. Not when I know he won’t let anything happen to me.

He saved me.

“Hey, sweet girl. How are you feeling?” His gentle voice matches his expression.

I know he’s not asking about my body. He’s asking how I’m doing emotionally. He’s genuinely worried about me.

“I’m still a little shaken, but I feel safe with you. It didn’t get too far, and I’m just… I’m grateful you came for me. And Roman too.” I pause, exhaling slowly. “I think yesterday hit me so hard because of what could’ve happened. But now that I’ve had time to process it, I’m doing better.” I give him an encouraging smile, even if my hands tremble around the mug.

Matty shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. Stuff did happen. Even though it didn’t go further, you still have a right to be upset. What you went through was traumatic. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

His voice is so sincere, his words so grounding, that my eyes sting with tears.

His expression crumbles. He takes the coffee from my hands and pulls me into his chest, murmuring soft reassurances against my hair.

“I’m not crying because of yesterday. I’m crying because of you. Your patience. Your support. It means everything to me.”

He studies me, searching for deception, but he won’t find it. When he finally believes me, his features soften. But his next words come cautiously.

“Sweetheart, I hate to ask you this. And if you’re not ready, we can talk later. But I need to know, so I can keep you safe. Can you talk about what happened?”

I nod, understanding. He deserves to know. I’ve dragged him into something. But the problem is… I don’t know what. I don’t have answers.

“I’ll tell you everything, but I don’t even know what happened,” I admit. “I’m sorry.”