Page 15 of Crimson Curse
He turns at that. His ice-gray eyes settle on mine with a look that used to freeze me in place. Now it only makes my spine straighten more.
“I read the certificate,” I assert, taking a step closer. “You didn’t destroy it like we planned. It was filed, legally.”
His jaw tics. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Then why didn’t you undo it?” I push.
“I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t?” My voice cracks with disbelief. “You run an international crime syndicate, Daniil. You’ve bribed judges. You’ve smuggled priceless artifacts across borders. Don’t tell me youcouldn’tmake a piece of paper disappear.”
“I didn’t want to.” The words are quiet and still, dangerous in their honesty.
The silence widens between us like a chasm.
“You lied to me,” I say, shaking my head. “You pretended this was fake. You paraded me around like some bargaining chip, told me none of it mattered, and all along, you were keeping me.”
He steps closer, each movement slow and intentional. “You were never supposed to matter. You were never part of the plan.”
My stomach twists, and my breath catches in my throat.
“But now I can’t imagine this life without you.”
My chest pulls tight. The anger I’ve been clinging to begins to unravel.
“You had no right?—”
“I have every right,” he cuts in sharply. “Viktor had you. I didn’t know where. I didn’t know what he was doing to you. And every hour that passed I thought about what he’d take from you.”
He swallows, a muscle in his throat working as he looks away.
“I didn’t know the certificate was filed. But when I found out, I knew I needed youtiedto me. Legally. Permanently. If something happened to me, I wanted every man in my Bratva to know you weren’t just a pawn. You were my wife.”
My breath falters.
He steps closer, until there’s barely a foot of space between us. The heat rolling off his body is maddening, tethered to every memory I tried to forget while I was locked away.
“Say something,” he rasps.
I search his face, but he’s wearing the same quiet expression he always hides behind. Only this time, I see what’s underneath it, the cracks and truths he doesn’t know how to say out loud.
So, I say them for him.
“I thought I hated you,” I whisper. “For what you dragged me into. For pretending you didn’t care. For making me fall in love with a man I didn’t think was capable of love.”
Shock ripples across his face, his eyes widening as a sharp breath breaks free.
“But I don’t hate you,” I say. “I’m terrified of what you make me feel. Of how fast this happened. Of how you look at me like I’m already yours even when I’m not sure who I am anymore.”
“Youaremine,” he says, his voice low and tight. “And I will burn down the world before I let anyone take you from me again.”
I don’t answer. Imove.
My hands fist in his shirt, dragging him down until our mouths crash together. The kiss is wild, teeth and tongue, a collision that steals my breath and sets my body on fire. He groans into me, the sound vibrating through his chest, and his hands clamp hard on my hips, lifting me like I’m nothing but a weightless possession in his grip.
The desk edge digs into my thighs as he sets me down, papers scattering like confetti, but all I feel is his mouth, his heat, and his hunger. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging until he groans low in his throat. His lips drag down the line of my jaw, my throat, finding the spot where my pulse hammers. He sucks there, his tongue stroking, his teeth grazing until I gasp.
“Tell me to stop,” he growls, voice strained like a man fighting his last thread of control.
