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“As you wish, Mila.” Kidding. That one was a besotted, sword-wielding Westley in my dreams.
I offered him one, which annoyed him. “Stop giving away the things I buy you.”
I wanted Mila, but I wanted her willingly. Her tears unnerved me.
She had a soft heart. I didn’t want to destroy it. I wanted it in the palm of my hand.
“Run, Ivan,” I warned with a deadly calm. “Run fast. Because if I catch you, I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands.”
“I hope this isn’t how you normally get laid. It’s exhausting.” A humored brow rose. “It’s a first for me, but thankfully, I’m open to new things.”
“As much as I wish otherwise, there is nothing about you I could find gross.”
The view was a painter’s wet dream; the girl too flawless to be real. I wanted to slap her.
It was then I learned apologies were nothing but useless words, though Mila felt differently. And she could have whatever she wanted from me right now.
I’d wanted her body. But now, I wanted her loyalty even more.
“I don’t regret a lot of things, kotyonok, but I do regret what I did last night.” “Because you almost lost your collateral,” I replied emotionlessly. “No,” he said harshly. “Because you could have died.”
He watched me for a second. “Jesus Christ.” With a frustrated noise like he was in pain, he released my hair. “I’ve Stockholm syndromed you.”
She gave me her forgiveness. I had nothing to give her but vengeance.
“Because you’re so sweet you fucking glow.” His eyes darkened. “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to take that light from you.”
I found another weakness. He was weak for me.
I could be patient when I really wanted something. But I didn’t want her; I needed her. If this was what they called “love,” then I’d own it. I never did anything half-ass.
“You’re enough entertainment for me alone. It’s like watching a circus.”
