Nikolai looks down at me, his dark lashes framing his intense green eyes as his hand runs possessively over my ass.

I push off him and let him have my phone as I walk away. My face flushes with embarrassment, doubling my shame. After that night, our relationship has felt different, as if I’ve willingly yielded all control to him.

I let my guard down, and now I can’t stop being controlled by my own desires. A wicked connection has formed between us.

I’m not Nikolai’s whore, even if I begged him like one.

My thoughts must show on my face as I glare at him with all the hate I feel.

Nikolai’s confident smile shifts as he stares back at me, and his dangerous side peeks out, pinning me with a cruel, threatening look. His gaze narrows as he steps toward me, and a chill races through me.

Something primal.

As if I’m afraid of what he wants to do to me. Without thinking, my hand rises to clutch at my throat, and I recall his fingers wrapped around them as he used my mouth. Desire bubbles up unprompted, and I remember the brief moment when I thought I might drown if he came down my throat. He held me like a toy in his grip. Used me for whatever his pleasure required.

And God, Iwantedit.

My face burns again as I feel the familiar heat pool in my stomach and descend between my legs.

Istillwant it.

Suddenly, a loud ringing sound slices through the tension. I jump in surprise as Nikolai stops in his tracks, quickly ending the moment. He takes his phone out of his suit pocket and answers in Russian, his voice hushed and low as if to conceal what’s being said.

Slumping down in defeat against the couch, I wish I could make out what he’s saying, and then I recognize one word—meeting.Something about a meeting and a deadline. The conversation is over before I can process what’s happening. Nikolai is walking away, not sparing me another glance.

“Wait!” I shout as he unlocks the elevator. “Where are you going?”

Nikolai smiles, pleased by my frantic reaction. “To pick our rings, Eden.”

And just like that, he exits quickly without any explanation.

I’m left alone as an unyielding feeling of guilt encircles me. It’s like the air has changed into heavy matter, weighing my exhausted body down.To pick up the rings, and then off to kill my dad. Why do I want this terrible man? I should be disgusted with him. But I’m only disgusted with one person—myself.

I lie on the couch, listless, and let the horror of my life sink into my bones. I made one mistake—I ran away, and I’ll be lucky if I’m given the chance to make another.

By seven,Nikolai isn’t back, and I search for dinner. Avoiding the office, I enter the dining room. I rarely go in here, and when I do, my stomach churns from the floating sensation. Dominika says the room makes her feel as if she could soar, but I don’t like it in here. Too much glass, and the openness makes me feel defenseless, as if I could step over the edge if I’m not careful.

“Should I serve you in here?”

I jump as Dominika enters the room. She steps forward, her face beaming as she stares at the glass, ignoring the artwork covering the walls. “This room makes me feel as if I could fly.”

I clamp my hands down on my stomach. “I don’t like it,” I mumble. “I feel like I’m going to fall over the edge. Again.”

Dominika places her hand on my shoulder. “You have to eat,” she whispers, “for the little one. The chef made a fresh pesto and pasta salad with extra basil. No chicken now that you’re eating vegan.”

I smile weakly. “The chicken smell makes me feel sick.” I look into Dominika’s gaze, and kindness reflects back at me. The baby has changed everything between us. Could it change things between me and Nikolai? “Can I eat in the kitchen with you?” I ask.

She looks puzzled for a moment and then nods, a cheerful smile on her poised face. “We have a good time without the pakhan.”

The kitchen isn’t what I expected. I thought it would be a room where people congregate, but it looks more like the back end of a restaurant with its long line of steel tables, stoves, wide sinks, and metal cupboards. On the counters are ceramic bowls, plates, and copper pots. The air is heavy with the smell of garlic and herbs, smoke from the stoves, and the heat of the ovens.

Nonetheless, there’s an enormous table off to the side for staff to eat. Sitting there eating a sandwich, Anton takes up one whole side. He’s the biggest man I’ve ever seen, but his startled, doe-eyed expression makes him resemble a teddy bear, not a grizzly.

“Anton, are you picking at the pots again?” Dominika asks. “Your dirty fingers don’t belong in the food.”

He shakes his head as if he’s been caught in the act. “No, I brought a sandwich from the take-out.”

Dominika hugs him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, and though she’s been kind to me, I’m shocked by her maternal affection toward Anton. Dominika laughs at my shocked gaze and at Anton, who can’t help gawking at me.