Page 51 of Konstantin
He chuckles—dark, rich, and thick with meaning. “That depends entirely on how long you plan to keep pretending there’s nothing between us.”
I’m halfway to a retort when he backs away, his eyes dragging across my face like he’s memorizing every inch.
“Go get some rest, malyshka. You’re going to need it.”
His stare lingers like a brand, and by the time he turns away, I’m painfully aware that this tightrope I’m walking is fraying fast.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EMILIA
The jet issleek and black, waiting on the tarmac like a predator in a suit. Looks like it has something in common with its owner.
Konstantin’s hand grazes mine as he silently takes my suitcase, the brush of skin sending a current through me. I climb the steps with his presence right behind me, heat prickling down my spine. There’s a sound—low, primal—and I can’t tell if it’s him or the jet growling to life beneath us.
Once I step into the cabin, I’m surrounded by pure luxury.
A bright-eyed blonde in a tailored uniform greets us at the top of the steps with a practiced smile. “Welcome, Mr. Marinov. Ms. Monroe. May I get you two anything to drink?”
Before I can answer, Konstantin’s voice slides in, smooth and razor-sharp. “I’ll take care of her.”
He presses up behind me, his hand resting lightly, yetpossessively against my hip like he’s staking a claim. A rush of heat radiates through my chest, furious and unwanted.
I’m not his. I never will be. But my body hasn’t gotten the memo.
Not when his palm lingers a second too long. Not when his lips are so close to my ear, I feel the brush of his breath.
“Take a seat,” he demands.
And suddenly, I’m not sure if the tightness in my chest is nerves…or anticipation of what’s to come.
The scars on my arms throb, like they want to remind me that he knows my secrets, the ones I never talk about. I hate that he does, that he forced me to give him something I wasn’t ready to, but it doesn’t change anything between us.
I slide into one of the white leather seats, crossing my legs and meeting his gaze with the kind of calm I don’t quite feel. It’s a challenge. A performance. Like I belong here. Like his world was always meant to be mine.
His mouth lifts slightly, and there’s something in his eyes that sharpens. Something that says he sees more than I want him to.
Then I stupidly wonder again if anyone’s ever loved him. Truly loved him. Would someone miss him if he disappeared? Cry for him? Ache for him like he was worth mourning?
Would anyone missme?
Sure, Nate would. Gerardo and Fiona too. Maybe even Riley. But that’s not what I mean. I want someone to miss me like their world’s been ripped apart. I want to be remembered so deeply it ruins them.
I’ll never have that, will I?
I drag in a long breath. Is this what happens when someone’s starved for affection? They start craving it from the most dangerous people?
But falling in love, having a family of my own, is absolutely not in the cards for me. I’m far too messed up for that. With the kind of mother I had for a role model, I’d be a disaster.
A bitter laugh scrapes the back of my throat. Guess therapy’s been working better than I thought. At least I can recognize how fucked up I am.
“What’s so amusing?” His voice slices through my thoughts, dragging me out of the spiral.
He stands at the minibar, pouring himself a drink. His eyes lift, catching mine across the cabin. The moment our gazes collide, it’s like he’s commanding me in place without even touching me.
“Nothing.” I push my hair away from my face and sit straighter.
His smile curves, slow and knowing, like he can read the lie right through me. “You drink coffee?”
