A rough exhale. A growled, “Mila.” And then the sound of his expensive boots on my trail. I flew down the stairs, frantically thinking of a good place to hide. In my haste, I barreled into the dining room and came to a full stop when I saw Gianna, Christian, and Kat enjoying a nice family meal. I panted, chest heaving. Gianna hid a laugh. “Uh-oh,” Kat murmured. “Mila is in trouble.” Ronan grabbed me by the waist and pulled me off my feet. “Make sure you try the vatrushka,” he said nonchalantly. “Polina makes the best.”
