Chapter 3 #2
Is he obtuse on purpose? No man could be him. I see only him, hear only him, smell only him—want only him. My world revolves around this man, as if I was made to be his.
“It’s not the same,” I say, not liking the anguish slipping through his stoic face.
He tips my chin up, his eyes sucking the very soul from me. “Are you interested?”
I shrug as if contemplating his offer. I guess I like to play with danger. “He hooked me up with the best agent, hoping to unfold my full potential.”
“Yeah, Tristan Kinkaid, such a selfless soul,” he grumbles.
“The King of New York on top of that.” I remind him, fully engrossed in my plan to get a reaction. If he’d only break for me. Just once.
Mika dips his head, brushes his nose along the side of my face, inhaling me. “He’s that because I keep Demyan in check.”
I am just glad I’m sitting. I know what he’s trying to do: remind me of who he is. I am not scared of him, but he should be of me. I won’t submit to his command, but he will surrender to his weakness.
I tilt my head, enjoying this game too much to stop. “Is that so?”
His fingers thread through my hair. Gathering it into a ponytail at the base of my neck, he tugs my head back. “I’d burn his kingdom down if he ever dares to take you from me.”
Gentle then rough, he sends my senses into a tizzy. I can barely string coherent thoughts together.
I bite my lip, squirming in my seat, wanting more, desperately needing more. I want him to come undone. “That’s hypocritical.”
His brows furrow as he strokes down my back, the touch flaming me up. I burn for this man at the mere touch. More and I’d go up in flames. The power he has over my body is as thrilling as it is terrifying.
“Why?” he asks, appearing genuinely intrigued.
The fire licking at my skin turns to blazing frustration. “So, no one else can have me?”
“No one from our world,” he says with finality, but I catch the crack in his mask, and I push him some more.
“Hmm, is that so?” I play for nonchalance. “Good to know,” I say, infusing more belief than I possess.
His eyes bore into mine as if to delve into the depths of my soul to find the answer he’s looking for. “Don’t play games with me.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Oh, you grump. You wouldn’t even know what playing is.”
He chuckles and then places a sweet kiss on my cheek, lingering there a moment longer. “See you tonight.”
I suck in a breath, failing to hide my desire for more. “Yeah, yeah, you have an empire to run. Must leave a legacy behind for your future heirs.” Then I slap a palm on my forehead. “Right, you won’t have any.”
His jaw sets in a hard line. “If you let another man have what I can’t, mark my fucking words. He won’t either,” he says firmly. The resolve behind his words sounds like an oath.
He storms away, leaving my mouth hanging. I don’t know how long it takes me to recover from the shock his statement caused.
On unsteady legs, I search for my mother and find her quickly. She’s in her favorite room, overlooking the garden. In her lap, a picture of her and my father rests between the pages of a book.
Avoiding looking at my father, I take the seat next to her, wanting to be there for her. She’s the first one to speak. “Loving a man in our world comes with a ‘no judging’ stipulation. But I notice it in your eyes. Do you think he’s a better man than your father?”
I keep my mouth closed, not knowing what to answer. I have no idealistic views of Mika. He does bad things; he runs a bloody empire. But he’s deeply loyal and protective.
I sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s not my place to judge.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Mikail won’t go there, mia figlia. And I don’t want my daughter to spend her life pining for a man.”
My eyes widen. Here I thought I was being subtle, and she was too far gone in her grief to see past that.
“What was the attitude at the table?” she asks me knowingly.
I shrug. “Wanted to test him.”
“Some men would die for their loved ones. Other men would do anything to keep them.”
She doesn’t have to tell me which category Mika is in.
“On the other hand, I think he’s the only one who can force you out of the gilded cage, both he and your brother are responsible for. Stop indulging them and start living, my beautiful daughter. None of us knows when the end is coming.”
Letting her read in peace, I excuse myself.
Her wise words stay with me for the rest of the day. One question plays explicitly on repeat, like a melody without an end. If this were my last day, what would I do? Would I exist just as I am now, or would I be unafraid to live for once?
Defiance blasts through my insides. I’d live my truth, unapologetically—free of constraints, brazen in the face of what’s appropriate.
The answer doesn’t matter because he won’t give me what I want.
I am done waiting for him. I’ll simply take it myself.
Oh, Mikail, we’re going to play. I am ready to gamble my heart, sabotage my sanity, and risk my well-being because you’re worth it. What we could have, what we could be, is worth everything.
I will either win yours or you can keep mine as a war trophy because that’s what it will be. A war of wills, a tug of hearts—the battle will be unfair. It might get messy, but I refuse to continue living like this.
I either have him, or I will take the offer to play elsewhere and get out of his life forever.
Maybe without me around, he will be able to start a life, and I will be able to breathe without him. And when we look back, we’ll smile one more time in secrecy.
How once upon a time, Dahlia Ferrara loved Mikail Morozov, her dark king, her brother’s best friend, but she set him free knowing she could never be his woman, and he loved her enough to let her go.
Just for a while, I want him to love me less and give me what I want, let me live my fantasy. And then I will let him go, absolve him of all his promises, and set him free.
A tear falls down my cheek, and I catch it with the tip of my finger. I stare at the drop, afraid he will refuse me, even more terrified that we will end before we even begin.
Inhaling deeply, I prepare myself to seduce him, pulling from deep within me the woman I buried.
I am Dahlia Ferrara, and this flower is ready to bloom.
No more hiding.
Time is not on my side.
Ten days, and by the end Mikail will be mine.