Page 62 of Her Cruel Empire
Chapter 22
Robin
Warmth. That’s the first thing I register as consciousness creeps in—not the usual warmth of a blanket, but a solid, human warmth pressed against my back.
Then I feel it—the weight of an arm draped possessively across my waist, the gentle rise and fall of breathing that isn’t my own.
I turn my head slowly, hardly daring to breathe.
Eva.
She’s still asleep, her face softer than I’ve ever seen it. Those sharp cheekbones that could cut glass look so delicate in the morning light. Her clouds of black hair spill across the pillow like dark water, and her usually perfect composure is nowhere to be found. She looks…real. Like a person instead of an untouchable queen who bought me at auction.
I lie perfectly still, afraid that the slightest movement will shatter this moment. Eva sleeps like she does everything else—withcomplete confidence, one arm flung across me as if she owns me. Which, I suppose, she does. But right now, in this quiet morning light, it doesn’t feel like ownership.
It feels like happiness.
She stirs against me and I hold my breath. Any second now she’ll wake up and remember who she is, what this is. She’ll pull away with that cool air and pretend this intimacy never happened.
But instead, Eva stretches out, her body arching against mine. Her amber eyes open slowly, lazily, and when they focus on my face, she doesn’t immediately recoil. Instead, a faint smirk tugs at her lips.
“Good morning,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. “Aren’t you late for your...empire?”
Eva’s smirk deepens as she catches sight of the digital clock over my shoulder. “Mm. I should be heading to a meeting right now,” she murmurs, her accent thicker with sleep. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my bare shoulder, and I shiver.
I try to tease my way past the nervous energy crackling between us. “And yet you’re still here.”
“Perhaps I’ll play hooky.” Her smile becomes something true, something that transforms her entire face. “You’re far more interesting than contract negotiations.”
Suddenly, she rises, the sheet sliding down her bare back, and announces, “Yes, I’ve decided. We’re going out for the day.”
My stomach flips. Eva Novak, terror of the criminal underworld, is choosing me over work. Over the empire that consumes her every waking moment.
“Where?” I ask. Eva doesn’t do spontaneous. Everything in her life is strategic. I haven’t known her long, but I already know that about her.
“You’ll see.” She’s already moving toward the bathroom. But something’s different. There’s an almost playful energy about her that makes my pulse quicken.
She’s really skipping work.
For me.
The car ride through Paris is still magical. I press my face to the window like a child, watching the city unfold around us—narrow cobblestone streets, sidewalk cafes with their cheerful striped awnings, elegant Parisians walking tiny dogs. Everything looks like it belongs in a movie.
Eva sits beside me in silence, but I can feel her watching. When I glance over, she’s studying my face with that unreadable expression she gets sometimes, like she’s solving a puzzle.
Leon and the other bodyguards are with us, their presence a reminder that even in this fairy tale moment, Eva’s world is dangerous. But right now, I don’t care. I’m in Paris with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and she chose to be here with me instead of conquering the world.
She can do that tomorrow instead. The thought makes me grin even harder. But when the car stops, I gasp.
The Eiffel Tower rises before us like something out of a dream, its iron lattice gleaming. Tourists swarm around its base, snapping photos and chattering in a dozen languages.
“We’re going up?” I breathe. “What’s it like?”
Eva gives a little shrug. “I’ve never been. Too touristy.”
“You’ve never been?” I repeat, shocked. “You’ve never…” I trail off.
“What?” she asks, curious.
