Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Drago
I want to tell her. God help me, I want to tell her everything.
That I’m the man she’s been unknowingly searching for. The faceless protector she clung to in the dark. That when I kicked that dressing room door in, I saw him hovering over her like a parasite, and something in me snapped so violently I don’t remember crossing the room.
I remember blood. I remember the sound he made when I broke him.
I remember cutting the ties from her wrists with shaking hands that had never shook before.
I was the one who lifted her. The one who carried her out.
The one who killed him and ordered my men to erase every trace of his existence as if he’d never drawn breath.
I took her home. And then I didn’t leave. I stayed outside her house for days, sitting in the dark, watching her bedroom light turn on and off, listening to the silence between breaths, making sure she slept. Making sure nothing ever came near her again.
Even now, hearing her tell it in her own words, that same white-hot fury burns in my chest, sharp enough to split a bone.
Instead of telling her the truth, I pull her closer.
I cradle her against me, resting my chin on her head, my hand sliding through her hair in slow, steady strokes. Grounding her. Grounding myself.
Part of it is fear. Fear that she’ll see it as a betrayal. That I kept this from her. That I watched her from the shadows after she left Russia. That after that night, the check-ins Lev asked for weren’t enough anymore.
I didn’t just protect her. I obsessed over her safety. Nothing like that was ever going to happen again. Not while I was breathing.
I know how it looks. I know what it sounds like if spoken aloud. A man who saves her, then watches her, then falls in love with her.
But I didn’t choose this.
I kept my distance for years. Forced myself to stay in the dark where I belonged. I had no idea that the moment she stepped into my space for real—when she looked at me, touched me, and trusted me—I’d realize the pull was mutual.
Like magnets snapping together after years of resisting gravity.
Maybe I was meant to save her that night. Maybe whatever twisted fate governs this fucked-up world decided our lives would intersect long before either of us understood why.
“Thank you for listening to me, Drago,” she whispers against my chest.
The words hit harder than anything else tonight.
“Always, baby,” I murmur, because that part is the easiest truth I’ve ever spoken. Maybe I could just tell her everything now? Get it out. Would it be the end of the world?
She sits up, her fingers brushing my stubble, and I lean instinctively into her touch. I don’t deserve how gentle she is with me.
“Is my dad going to go crazy about this?” she asks quietly. “You know him better than I do.”
The familiar ache tightens in my chest. It’s easy to see that Lily wants a relationship with her father.
That she’s excited to have him back, like a piece of her that was missing all this time.
And being with me, that’s going to drive a wedge in between that.
It’s going to stop her from getting the dad she deserves.
I know Lev. I know this is a line that I can’t come back from with him.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. I won’t lie to her. Not about this.
She chews on her lip, worry flickering behind her eyes.
“This isn’t something you have to carry,” I tell her. “If he’s angry, it’ll be at me. I’ll handle it. I promise.”
She sighs, tracing the ink on my forearm absently. “It would kinda be easier if he just… went back to Russia.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “You don’t mean that.”
She cups my face, her eyes burning with certainty. “I do. I can’t lose you because of him.”
Something loosens in my chest at that. “You won’t,” I say, and for the first time tonight, I believe it.
She smiles, playful now. “So… am I going to be your dirty little secret?”
“Never,” I say immediately.
I tap her nose. “Maybe for a few days while I figure out how not to get my throat slit.”
Her mouth drops open, and I’m not entirely sure I’m joking.
There are lines you don’t cross. And this—us—is one of them. Or it was. To Lev, it will feel like betrayal.
But it’s real. And I won’t pretend otherwise.
“A little sneaking around is fine,” she concedes.
“Only briefly,” I tell her, threading my fingers through her hair. “This is long-term.”
Not a question.
Her smile hits me right in the sternum. “I like that. I like you being certain about me.”
I lace my hand gently around her throat and kiss her, letting it say what words can’t.
“Do we have to sleep in separate beds when we get home?” she asks, clearly offended by the idea.
So am I.
“I’ll just have to go to bed late and get up early,” I mutter.
I need to tell Lev. Soon. I won’t survive lying under my own roof with her this close.
“Drago,” she murmurs. “You’ve got that stressed look.”
I smile faintly. “Just thinking about the mess waiting for us.”
“Is it bad?”
“It’s not good,” I admit, covering her hand with mine. “But there’s light ahead. We just have to get there.”
“And then?”
I kiss each of her fingers slowly. “And then… we escape.”
Her eyes light up like I’ve just given her the world. “You’re serious?”
“I promise,” I say, because this future, I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
She leans up and kisses me, soft at first, tentative like she’s checking I’m still here.
I don’t last a second. I deepen it immediately, pulling her closer, because restraint has never existed when it comes to her.
I’m addicted to everything about her. The way she tastes.
The way she sighs into me like she belongs there.
I don’t even try to stop myself anymore.
“You need to get some sleep, baby,” I murmur against her lips, forcing myself to pull back. “Otherwise, that champagne is going to punish you tomorrow.”
She pouts, properly pouts, her bottom lip pushed out in a way that makes my chest ache. “I’m fine. The champagne’s already worn off. But I will sleep… only if you’re next to me.”
I don’t need telling twice. I strip out of my clothes, everything but my boxers, and pull back the covers, letting her climb under first. Her eyes don’t even try to be subtle as they track every inch of me.
“Your workouts must be insane,” she breathes. “You are so fucking sexy.”
I chuckle as I slide in beside her, tucking her close, my arm automatically going beneath her head, her cheek settling over my chest as if it has always belonged there.
“I’m trained in martial arts,” I tell her quietly. “That’s my main workout most days. But I lift a lot too.”
Her fingers trace slowly over my abs. “I kinda want to lick them.”
“We need to sleep,” I warn, even though my body reacts instantly.
She sighs dramatically, then presses a kiss to my pec instead. “Martial arts is pretty cool.”
“It’s not just about the body,” I say, stroking her hair. “It’s about training the mind. Control. Awareness. Breathing. I love it.”
It taught me how not to break when the world tried to break me.
“That’s what ballet was for me,” she says softly. “It was what kept me sane.”
The sadness in her voice cuts straight through me.
“Maybe one day you’ll love it again,” I murmur. “Don’t count yourself out yet. You’re stronger than you think. Strong enough to do anything.”
“I’ll think about it,” she says after a beat. Then, lighter, teasing again, “Now… are you going to spoon me or what?”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “Damn right.”
We shift, fitting together perfectly, her back to my chest, my arm wrapped around her waist, my chin resting near her temple. I reach over and turn off the light.
The room goes dark, and I lie there, staring into nothing, listening to her breathing slowly even out as sleep claims her. Each breath feels like a countdown. Each second stretches tighter in my chest.
My mind won’t shut up.
How to tell Lev. When to tell Lily the truth. How to stop my world from detonating the moment those secrets come out.
I don’t know how much time passes. Minutes. Hours. It all blurs together. With every second she sleeps peacefully in my arms, the weight of what’s coming presses harder. I only know one thing with absolute certainty.
I would burn every version of myself that came before her if it meant keeping her safe in the one that comes next.
The second I hear the elevator ping, my hand is already on my gun, and I’m out of bed. It’s five in the fucking morning.
I move fast, silent, pulling it from the side as I creep toward the door. When I open it, the kitchen light flicks on, and all I see at first are long, bare legs.
Shit.
Her eyes lock with mine, and that wicked smile spreads across her mouth as she lifts her fingers in a little wave. This is like coming face-to-face with a ghost that fucking haunts you. An evil entity here to rip my life to shreds again.
That’s what Tatiana does. That’s who she is. And she hides behind a pretty face.
I press a finger to my lips, a clear warning to shut the fuck up. This is not ideal. It never was. I made contact with Tatiana. I always knew this was a possibility. I just didn’t expect her this soon.
Keeping my gun trained on her, I step out and quietly close the bedroom door behind me before striding toward the kitchen.
Today her eyes are blue. I’ve seen a dozen versions of Tatiana over the years. Different faces. Different hair. Different masks. And now, she’s used her disguise to get herself into my penthouse.
“The blonde hair suits you,” I say flatly.
She looks like a cheap knock-off of Lily, and that alone makes my stomach twist.
She bites her bright red lip. “Is it because I look like your new girlfriend?” she purrs.
I give her nothing. No reaction. No tells.
“Sit,” I order, gesturing to the chair at the dining table with my gun.
“I’ve missed this view,” she says instead, dragging her gaze over my body, stopping at my boxers, like she owns me.