Page 144 of Legacy
The girls we rescued—they’ve been keeping me busy. Purpose helps. So does anger. Anything to keep from thinking about her scent, her lips, her silence.
Her.
Maksim’s a fucking dick, his presence around her grating like sandpaper.
And now?Now I get it.
I get why Santo wanted to rip my throat out for breathing too close to Vasilisa.
I get home late, the city lights a blur through weary eyes.
Exhaustion hangs on me like a heavy cloak.
My jaw aches from clenching, my knuckles are raw and bruised.
My soul? That’s been shot to hell since the day she saw my damn shrine, a ruin of what it once was.
But the moment I step into the penthouse, I smell it.
Her scent.
Dark cherry. Soft. Sweet. A little bitter at the edge like her temper.
It’s everywhere now—her perfume clinging to the walls like smoke.
Wrapping around me like memory.
Like permission.
And fuck, I love it.
Her door’s closed.
I don’t knock. I don’t breathe too loud.
I don’t want to push.
Something pulls me toward my own room. Hand by my gun, I enter, shoulders tense, ready for anything.
But then I stop.
Because something’s different.
The air iscooler.
I glance at the far end of the room and I see it.
The window.
Cracked open.
Just enough to let the air slip through.
Just enough to let me in.
She was here.
In my room.
