Page 76 of Desperate People

I ran to him because I trust him.

Because when I was scared—really scared—I didn’t think of my father or my bodyguards or some underground panic room in the Hamptons.

I thought of him.

I called him.

And he came.

Not just with muscle and menace—but with fire in his eyes and gentleness in his hands.

With a promise.

With protection.

With this deep, unshakable sense of being seen.

Because he doesn’t just want the fantasy of Lucy Volkov.

He wants me.

And God help me, I want him back.

I rest my hand over the glittering diamond on my finger. It’s solid. Real. A weight I can feel every time I move.

I have feelings for him.

For Balor.

My husband.

And maybe this isn’t the kind of fairytale I used to dream about. Maybe it’s not neat or clean or even safe. But it’s mine.

And I’m not running anymore.

“Guys—oh my God, guys—I’m getting married.”

I say it aloud for the first time, and the room erupts again.

And for the first time in three days, I actually start to believe it.

Because maybe he’s not just doing this because of my father.

Or the press.

Or guilt.

Maybe Balor Cruz—the man with mismatched eyes and a hacker’s hands and a haunted soul—really is mine.

And maybe this—maybe we are worth risking everything for.

There’s only one way to find out.

Chapter Fifteen-Balor

I feel like I’m holding a live wire in my chest.

Every breath? A jolt.

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