Page 78 of Mafia King's Broken Vow
“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice cuts like a blade. “One instruction, Mila. Call me. Not the man we’re keeping under armed guard.”
“I got out, didn’t I?” I snap back, adrenaline still buzzing under my skin.
“Because you calledGagarin?” He spits the name like it’s poison. “The man under constant surveillance? The same man who kidnapped women tied to my family?”
I lift my chin, steady and unapologetic. “Yes. I knew Yakov would know what to do.”
His eyes narrow, reading between the lines. “Yakov,” he repeats, voice dripping with implication. “On a first-name basis now, are we?”
Heat creeps up my neck, but I don’t look away. “He knew exactly how to get me out. Every blind spot, every exit. “
“And that doesn’t concern you?” Igor steps in, crowding my space like proximity will make me see reason. “That he’s been mapping escape routes this whole time?”
“Forme,” I bite out. “Not for himself. After Pablo’s first appearance, he made sure I’d have a way out.”
Igor falters, confusion clouding his anger. “Why would he do that?”
The truth hovers on the tip of my tongue, but there’s no version of it that won’t set off alarms. So I give him the only answer I can.
“Because he’s not the monster you keep telling yourself he is.”
Igor’s gaze sharpens, his anger cooling into something worse—concern. His voice drops, dangerously quiet. “How close have you gotten to him, Mila?”
My pulse kicks, but my face stays neutral. Years of training weren’t for nothing. “He’s my patient.”
Technically, he still is. Technically, I still have my license.
“That’s not an answer.”
I meet his stare without flinching. “I trust him.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Maybe I’m smart enough to know the difference between manipulation and protection,” I counter, voice softer but no less firm. “He didn’t have to help me today. But he did.”
Igor shakes his head, frustration bleeding into helplessness. “Judging a man like Yakov by his latest good deed is how people end up dead.”
I should argue. Should remind him I’m not some naive girl blinded by charm. But the truth is, I don’t care about justifying this to Igor. Or anyone else.
“Your session with Gagarin is canceled today,” he says finally. “You’ll stay here tonight. We’ll reassess tomorrow.”
I nod, outwardly compliant, while my mind is racing ahead, calculating routes, guard shifts, blind spots Yakov’s taught me to notice.
While I’m escorted to my assigned room, my gaze flickers down the hall toward the east wing, where I know he is. I can’t see him, but I feel him, a pull I stopped resisting.
Tonight, I promise myself. I’ll find my way to him.
Because while Igor sees a dangerous man under surveillance, I see the one person who spent weeks planning my escape routes. Who answered my panicked call. Who guided me to safety with a voice steady enough to anchor me through terror.
That’s not the behavior of a predator.
That’s protection. And I’m done pretending I don’t need it.
Yakov Gagarin isn’t just a dangerous habit I can’t break.
He’s the danger I’ll run toward.
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