Page 126 of Captive Prize

I didn’t move.

For a moment, neither did she. She stood there, eyes wide, staring up at me, so close I could feel her heat through our clothes.

Her fingers twitched. Like she wanted to throw something. Hit something. Hit me.

“I mean it, Roman. I’m leaving.”

She looked at me. Said my name. But she was really talking to herself, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

There was nothing I could say to change her mind. Not with words. My little warrior was far too stubborn to be swayed by anyone. She had to come to the truth on her own.

“I know,” I said, keeping my voice calm.

Her eyes twitched. Her fingers remained curled into tight fists.

That wasn’t the response she expected. And deep down, it wasn’t the one she wanted.

She let out a sharp breath and turned away, bracing her hands on the dresser. “God, you’re such an asshole.”

My lips twitched, but I kept my expression neutral. “And yet, you still look like you’re waiting for me to stop you. Why is that, Zoya?”

She spun around, rage blazing in her eyes. She knew I was calling her out and she hated it. “I’m not. I don’t want you to stop me.”

I tilted my head, leaning in like I was going to kiss her.

God, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to taste that defiance. That sweet, bitter fury.

But not yet.

She flinched, but she didn’t pull away.

Instead, I traced my thumb across her lips, gently, deliberately. When I spoke again, my words were like a blade—silent, seductive destruction.

“I don’t give a damn about your bank accounts, your escape plan, or how many times you tell yourself you don’t belong here,” I murmured. “But don’t stand there and lie to me. Don’t pretend you don’t feel this. I know you do.”

Her breath hitched.

I smirked. “You want to run? Fine. Run. But don’t act like you’re not already mine.”

Her pulse pounded, the vein fluttering in her neck, her lips parting on a gasp.

“Screw you, Roman.”

My hands slid up to her jaw, fingers firm as I tilted her face toward mine.

“Give it a few hours,” I whispered darkly against her ear, her heartbeat jolting beneath my fingertips. “And you’ll wish you had.”

Her hands pressed against my chest. And for a second—a brief, fleeting second—I thought she was going to give in.

Instead, she shoved me.

Hard enough that I had to take a step back to keep my balance.

“Let’s go,” she snapped. “The sooner I get out of here, the better.”

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders before grabbing her suitcase. Without another word, I turned toward the door and held it open.

“Then let’s go.” I repeated her words when she didn’t immediately follow.

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