Chapter 11
MIKHAIL
Instead of bringing Claire to the backseat of the car waiting nearby, I strode toward the driver’s door.
The driver exited, as did the other soldier who rode in the front.
One tip of my head toward the dead Giovanni assassin was all they needed for instruction. They were both here to back me up, but I could get Claire to safety on my own.
The driver nodded.
“Dispose of him,” I ordered. Looking at the other man, I said, “Go help the others secure Sergei’s room.
” That was why I’d come. Andre and Roman updated me that Sergei had been taken to surgery, and with him in a vulnerable position like that, I felt it necessary to come and make sure no one tried anything.
The Giovannis seemed to have an insider at this hospital.
Besides, I was more than eager for an excuse to run into Claire.
I hadn’t counted on running into her like this, saving her from one of my fucking enemies.
As I got her into the passenger seat, worried about how stiff and shocked she seemed, I fought back the anger of witnessing her threatened like that. I’d never forget the memory of her held up against the wall, a gun pressed to her head.
Rage reignited all over again, but as I guided her into the car and shut the door, I exhaled through my nose and tried to regain control.
I’d saved her.
She was alive.
And now, I’d do all I could to protect her further.
I got in to speed away, knowing my men would heed my orders.
“Where are we going? What’s going on?” As if being removed from the parking garage was all that it took to snap Claire out of that fugue, she turned toward me with a sharp and frantic expression.
“What… Mikhail…” She grimaced, roving her gaze around as she watched the streets blur by outside the tinted windows. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe,” I replied, focused on driving and making sure no one was tailing me.
“You’re kidnapping me?” She lashed out, smacking my upper arm. “Let me out. Let me—”
Reaching over to grab her wrist and hold it steady, I shook my head. “Let you go back to that garage where another asshole might be waiting to threaten you or kill you?”
That shut her up. She wrenched her arm out of my hold and huffed. This feistiness, I could handle. This sass and rebellious nature were good. So long as she wasn’t zombie-like after that fear, she should be fine.
“I told you. I told you, Mr. Orlov.” She seethed, fuming as she sat there. Anger was fine, too. It was bullshit that she’d act mad at me when I’d saved her life, but I could take it. She was venting, letting out her anger however she could, and I would hear her out.
“I told you that nothing would continue between us.”
“I wasn’t aware that we’d let anything start.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I walked out of your house with a clear intention to never bother with you again. That included your… your businessmen and family. Yet I was asked to help keep your soldiers off the record earlier. And I was asked by that monster where they were.”
“Thank you for not telling him.”
Her mouth hung open. “How could I tell him anything?” she screeched. “I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. He was choking me. He wanted to kill me for this and, and, and—”
Keeping my eyes on the road, I put my hand out to push her forward. “Put your head down.”
She started to duck, breathing wildly, but shot back up. “Why? In case someone shoots me through the window now?”
“Put your head down,” I repeated sternly. “Between your knees. Focus. Breathe.”
I couldn’t blame her for hyperventilating at the reminder of how close she’d come to death. Someone as good and pure as her, an innocent, would be rattled.
She’s too innocent. Too good.
She was in the business of saving lives while I was in the business of ending them. We couldn’t be more opposite if we tried.
Despite the contrast between us, I had no misgivings about bringing her home to my building where she would be protected from anyone else who’d dare to lay a single finger on her.
While she breathed through her panic, I kept my hand on her back, both to press her down and to offer her something to ground herself on. To remind her that she was alive and not shot. That she wasn’t alone but with me to lean on—if she’d let herself do so.
I pulled into the drive and men filed out from the entrance to open the doors. They wouldn’t need my direction. Those I’d left at the hospital would have given the heads up that I was en route home.
“Where…?” Claire lifted her head slowly, peering around at my drive.
“Come on,” I urged her before getting out, rounding the car, and opening the door.
She sat there still, crouched over and looking so small and scared. “No. No, Mr. Orlov,” she repeated in a whisper. Shaking her head, she made no move to get out. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be a part of your world, a part of any of this.”
Fuck it.
I leaned in and picked her off the seat, hoisting her into my arms to carry her. She protested, bucking and fighting to get free, but I only held her tighter.
“What you want no longer matters,” I growled. “Because what I want is to make sure you are safe.’
She went still, staring me down with no trust in her eyes.
“You were almost killed, targeted for doing your job.”
“That’s bullshit. I wasn’t just doing my job. I was told to treat your soldier off the record, and that, among everything else, makes me complicit!”
I set her down in the foyer, satisfied when Martin closed the doors behind us.
She was in.
She was in my home and wasn’t leaving under my watch.
I’d gotten her here, and I felt a twisted sense of excitement, wondering how much she’d push me.
How much she’d fight. Because witnessing the burn of anger and flames of defiance dancing in her eyes beat the instance of fear in them.
Hearing her snap at me like this, full of heat and stubbornness, was far superior to hearing her cry out in pain and terror at almost being killed.
Once more, rage was rekindled in my blood. I was tense and impatient to vent at the fact that she’d been threatened at all.
She was too fucking good for that. Too innocent.
Yet, I was doing exactly what I never wanted to. I was guilty of bringing her into my circle whether either of us wanted it or not.
I had to keep her safe. But more than that, I wanted to keep her near, all so I could further this delight and intrigue of learning everything there was to know about her.
“And now you think that you can get away with kidnapping me and bringing me here?” She backed up a step, getting out of my face to shake her head, incredulous.
“You will stay here,” I told her, losing the gentle tenderness that came to the surface after seeing her so scared. “For your protection.”
She firmed her lips in a thin line, glowering at me. Then as she glanced past me, spotting the guards at the doors, she seemed to come to the conclusion that I would be the one to call the shots around here. That my will would be done, not hers.
It wasn’t a lie. I brought her here to keep her safe.
If I hadn’t interfered, she’d be dead or taken to be tortured, all for doing her job.
If I hadn’t shown up when I had, she could’ve tried the stupid route of going to the cops, who were all more lenient on the Giovannis than any other crime family.
She was safe here, but that wasn’t the only reason I acted on the rash impulse to bring her here.
Give me a chance to lose my fucking interest in you, Doctor.
She was on my mind too much. She was consuming me with dreams and too-vivid fantasies. Crossing the line and breaking my rule to never have women in my life wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t. I was already stressed about having Anya in my life and being a burden and collateral to worry about.
I couldn’t keep Claire here for good. I knew that. But if she met me in the middle and stayed for as long as it could take for me to ensure her safety outside these walls, I was sure I’d bore of her. My curiosity would have to wane.
“Martin.”
The butler stepped forward as Claire and I stared each other down, neither of us flinching.
“Please show Dr. Donovon to the guest suite in the west wing.”
Claire’s eyes slitted further, as if she could sharpen the precision of the daggers she sent my way with her glare.
“Provide her with all she needs as our newest guest.”
“Guest?” she spat. “I’m a captive. Not a guest.”
“You are not leaving until I deem it safe.” I turned to walk away, impatient to have a breather from her when she made me feel so mad and alive. I had to check in with Andre and Roman to make sure no one was bothering anyone else at the hospital.
“I have a life. A job! I can’t stay here!” she protested to my back.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t, because if she tried to argue and rebel, fighting to get my permission to leave, I doubted I’d be able to resist the allure of making her submit and surrender to my wishes.