Page 124 of Desperate People

When I was a kid, I thought it was inevitable I’d find that too.

That I’d step into my own fairy tale.

But I didn’t.

Not yet.

And now, after telling Balor I love him, the fairy tale feels further away than ever.

Because he didn’t say it back.

And I don’t know if he ever will.

I know he wants me. I see it in the way his eyes linger on me like I’m the only thing worth looking at. In the way his hands claim me, possess me, as if I’m his to own.

But love? That’s different.

I don’t know if he’s capable. If he’s willing.

And that uncertainty gnaws at me.

Like a slow burn beneath my skin.

Because all I know is this, if Balor walks away—if he gets tired or scared or bored and leaves—it will break me.

And I have to be ready.

Chapter Thirty-Balor

When my new father-in-law asks us to dinner, my gut screams no.

Hell, part of me wants to cage Lucy away from the world, keep her wrapped up like a secret too dangerous for anyone else to touch.

I know that’s selfish. Damn near ridiculous.

But maybe that’s just who I am.

Still, when Marat Volkov reaches out, I grit my teeth and swallow my pride.

Curiosity wins.

I wrote Lucy a quick note with the news, hoping she knows I’m doing this for her, more than for any formal obligation.

I want nothing more than to crawl back under the covers with her—the way she looked this morning, soft and warm and utterly mine, worn out from the way I claimed her.

But I’m a man with business to handle.

Not so busy that she’s not the priority, but busy enough to know that some things don’t wait.

I roll my shoulders, bracing myself for the night ahead.

I know if I let my emotions run wild, this won’t end well.

Onyx catches my eye in the rearview mirror. His face is stone—calm, unreadable, loyal.

He knows what I’m thinking. He’d do the same for his woman.

That’s why he’s not just my driver. He’s my shadow. My second.

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