Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Fine, then. Everyone stays here. We will find him.”
“It’s like finding a needle in a haystack,” Aleks says, obviously frustrated. “Can’t you see that?”
“What would you have me do?” Ollie explodes. “You know he’s after Renata.”
His brothers leave when they realize no one can talk sense to him.
Hours pass, each one feeling more interminable than the last. Polina and Ekaterina try to lighten the mood with small talk, but even they eventually fall silent. It seems pointless to force conversation when we're all here, tense, wondering what the next moment will bring.
Finally, Ollie gives in. "There's no evidence he’s here," he says with palpable reluctance. "But I'm not taking any chances."
"Shocker," I mutter under my breath, making Polina smile, though it fades quickly as Ollie's eyes snap to mine. Even now, with all the uncertainty swirling around us—about who I am, who he is—there's a dangerous edge to his gaze that sends a shiver down my spine.
Oh, Ollie.
"Why don't you and Renata go back up to the guest-room," Ekaterina suggests gently. "I promise that Polina and I will stay right here in the house until you give us further instructions."
His jaw clenches, teeth grinding. I can only pity anyone foolish enough to confront him now. He's wound so tight he’s like a spring just about to break.
“Fine." He exhales sharply. "Aleks—"
"I'm constantly monitoring biometric feedback in the house,” Aleks interjects, his tone clinical. "All of you need rest, food, and water."
Ollie hesitates, then reaches for my hand. I pretend not to see it, stepping ahead of him instead. I don't want to be petty, but I don't want to touch him right now.
I haven’t come to terms with the fact that I love him—all of him. The darkness, the brutality, the cold, calculating killer. But how do you reconcile love with fear?
The thought of being alone with him now, facing the coldness in his eyes and the violence I know he's capable of, is too much.
I walk away. He lets me.
"Where are you going?" he demands in a harsh whisper.
"Where you tell me," I snap back, anger flaring. “Do I have any choice in the matter?”
“No, that’s not up for discussion. You're staying with me."
"And if I don't want to?" I challenge, watching hurt briefly flicker in his eyes before it's replaced with anger. "Dammit, Renata. Can't you see I'm trying to keep you safe?" His voice lowers to a rough whisper, his frustration obvious. "Why can't you see that?"
"I can, but I'm under no illusion that I'm safe from you, Ollie." The words slip out before I can stop them, hanging in the air like a death knell. He recoils as if struck. Maybe I have finally struck a chord in him because for the first time ever I see pain in his eyes, buried beneath layers of anger and cold calculation.
"I don’t want to stay here," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Not with you like this."
"Like what?" he asks, his voice a dangerous edge of darkness.
I don’t answer.
We walk in silence, and I wonder if he's too far gone—too deeply entrenched in his role as the cold commander to ever turn back.
When we reach the room, he opens the door, steps inside, and yanks me in after him. He slams it shut and presses me against it, capturing my lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. My body betrays me, going boneless as I melt under the heat of his touch, and I hate myself for it.
He kisses me like today is the only day we have to live, like there's no promise of tomorrow. He kisses me as if he's begging for forgiveness for being who he is. He kisses me as if he loves me, and it shatters my heart in two.
"Just because we haven't found any fucking sign of Carlos doesn't mean we're safe," he murmurs against my lips, his voice strained.
"Will we ever be?" I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.
"Of course we will," he says, but I hear the lie beneath the bravado even though I don’t want to.
No, we’ll never be safe. There will always be something threatening us. We’ll always have to be on alert, and I hate it. I want to run. I want to get away from here. And if I didn’t think that was the weakest possible response, I would have.
"Renata," he says, his tone softening, becoming tender again. I don’t want him to be this way—it’s so much harder to resist when he is like this.
Why do I even try to resist him?
I’ve spent my life protecting myself from vulnerability. I’ve had to. I would never have gotten this far if I didn’t. I don’t know how to manage this.
"Talk to me.”
“I don’t know, Ollie. I’m afraid. And it’s not just Carlos."
He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "I don’t know a way forward. I don’t know how to show you not to fear me.” He shakes his head. “I can’t fucking help who I am.”