Page 53 of Hers to Command

“No,” he agrees, his gaze softening as he cups my face in his hands. “But I’ll make it, anyway. This isn’t about who is in control,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “It’s about survival. And if that means making you hate me for a little while, so be it. But you are not going after Dmitri. Not directly anyway.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch despite myself. The vulnerability in his voice is disarming, cutting through my anger and leaving me raw. It promises something I won’t ever truly get from him, and that’s enough to tear something in me up.

He presses his forehead to mine, his hands still cradling my face as if I might vanish the moment he lets go. His breath fans warm against my skin, steadying something restless inside me.

I nod, the motion small, but enough to satisfy him. His shoulders relax slightly, the tension in his jaw easing as if he’s won some small victory.

“Good,” he says, his thumb brushing over my cheek before he steps back. “Now, come upstairs.”

I force a faint smile, letting him think I’ve conceded because that’s easier than to keep fighting him on this when I’m feeling so fucking vulnerable. “All right.”

He studies me for a moment longer, as though expecting resistance, but when I turn toward the stairs, he follows without another word.

But as I climb, my mind races ahead.

Riccardo doesn’t understand what this is doing to me. The way he acts as if he genuinely cares for me rubs salt on the raw wounds left by my father and Mikhail. They were supposed to love me. To believe in me. To stick by my side. And they didn’t. And here is Riccardo, who is clear about the fact that our marriage is temporary and yet he acts as if he is willing to do and feel all the things they didn’t. It’s bound to leave me even more broken.

And I’m done being broken.

So, yeah, Riccardo doesn’t understand what this is all about. I need to prove myself to my men or I’ll never have their respect. It’s about reclaiming something he can’t give me, no matter how much he thinks he can get anything he wants.

Riccardo might want to protect me now, but this isn’t his fight.

It’s mine.

As we reach the top of the stairs, Riccardo’s phone buzzes, pulling his attention away from me for a second. He pauses, glancing down at the screen with a frown.

“Go ahead,” he says, waving me toward the bedroom. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

I nod again, slipping inside. But instead of sitting on the bed, I move to the dresser to stash the note I had pushed into my pocket. My fingers brush over the paper as I quickly read the words again.

Riccardo thinks he’s bought time to do things his way. But Dmitri isn’t waiting, and neither am I.

Tomorrow, I’ll do what I have to and hopefully Dmitri won’t see it coming.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Anya

Riccardo is sitting at the kitchen island, sipping his morning espresso and scrolling through something on his phone. He’s even more watchful than usual, and I’ve been mulling over how I’m getting out of here to head to the Drewry Avenue club so I can look for Katja all night.

I hover by the counter until Riccardo looks up. His sharp eyes narrow slightly, assessing me before he speaks.

“You’re dressed early,” he says, his tone probing. “Why does it look like you plan on going out?”

“I’ve got a meeting with Sergei,” I reply evenly. “I need to fill him in on the plan and get a start on the transfer paperwork for the club ownerships before Mikhail gets any ideas to deal withthis stuff. My father’s lawyer has sent a bunch of paperwork to my father’s home, so we’re meeting there.”

Riccardo’s expression hardens. “And you’re going alone?”

“I didn’t say that,” I counter, already prepared for this. “You can send Ren and Josh to follow me. I’m not taking unnecessary risks, Riccardo. But I have to deal with the business side of things. Don’t get in my way of that, too, or our deal is off.”

He studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Fine. But I’ll make sure Ren and Josh are ready.”

“Great.” I let out a relieved breath, hiding the satisfaction blooming inside me by giving him my best sarcastic answer.

Half an hour later, I step out of the house, Ren and Josh trailing behind me as we head to our vehicles.

Before I get into my convertible, I turn to them. “When we get there, you’ll have to wait in your car. Ideally somewhere a bit down the road, or someplace you’re not overly obvious. I’m meeting with some people who don’t need to know that you’re babysitting me. It’ll be awhile,” I tell them.

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