Page 38 of Beautifully Deranged

“Are you serious?” Her voice is clipped, tight with irritation. “Leave me alone,” she hisses.

I lean close, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I tried to let you go, I really did. But I'm not wired to forget you.”

She stiffens when I hover near her mouth, close but not quite touching. “I can’t stay away,” I say. She hesitates. Something flickers on her face, but then she pulls back, clearsher throat, eyes hard. "The Bratva taught you how to lie real pretty," she snaps.

I straighten. “How do you know about the Bratva?”

“Your brother stopped by.”

Roman. That piece of shit.

“He told me about the forgery ring,” she says. “Said if I don’t help, the whole empire’s in trouble. Including you.”

“He had no right.” My voice scrapes out of me. If he touched her, if he even stood too close—

“I wouldn’t care if you dropped dead,” she continues nonchalantly. “So go ahead. Tell him I said no. Again.”

The words hit like a knife between the ribs.

And yet, she’s lying. I see it. In the way her lashes flutter. The way her hands clench in her lap. She’s trying so hard not to feel anything.

I don’t call her out on it. What would be the point? I let it go. For now. “Did he scare you?”

She falters. “What?”

I take her chin, lift it so she can’t look away. “Did. He. Scare. You.”

She yanks free. “No.”

Good. I breathe easier. Barely. “That’s what I needed to hear. Because he’s my brother. The Pakhan. I wouldn’t have killed him for this.” I pause. “But I would’ve made him regret it.”

Her eyes narrow. “Why now? Why drag me back into all of this?”

“Because I don’t get to choose. I tried to keep you away from this life. From me. But I can’t breathe without you. I can’t.”

She draws in a breath, slow and shaky.

“I can’t promise to keep the dark away,” I tell her. “But I’ll keep it off you.”

I cup her face, let my thumb skim down her neck. Her pulse thuds beneath it.

“Don’t,” she whispers. There’s no fear in her. Just frustration. Conflict. The same war I’m fighting. I kiss her. She pushes at me. Fights it, teeth clenched, fists balled. But I don’t let go. I kiss her like it’s the last thing keeping me upright. She gives in, but not fully.When she pulls back, she’s furious. I swipe my thumb across my mouth. “You’re the only thing keeping me from losing it completely.”

I turn around and walk away. Because if I stayed? I’d take her right there on that bench.

And I wouldn’t give a single damn who saw.

***

The warehouse reeks. Sweat, rust, old oil. That stale, metallic stink that clings to your clothes no matter how fast you walk out. I spot Roman where I figured he’d be, barking orders at a couple guys. But I’m not doing this with an audience. I grab the back of his neck and shove him into one of the side rooms, slamming the door shut.

“Well, well. Look who finally showed up. What, no call first?” He chuckles.

I hit him with no warning.

His head jerks back. Lip splits. Blood’s sliding down his chin. And of course, he laughs. “Oh, so we’re doing this. Great.”

“You crossed a line,” I say, fist still clenched, shaking out the sting.

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