Chapter 30 #2
She chuckles. “Mr. Marinov insisted you have all kinds of undergarments, so we want to make sure you have the essentials.”
“And these are essentials?”
Her mouth tips up. “When you’re with a man like him, yes.”
“But we’re not together.”
She shakes her head and gives me another laugh. “Have you told him that? Because that man is crazy about you, and considering he’s never brought another woman here, I would say you matter more than you think.”
She disappears, leaving me alone to wonder what to do with what she just said.
I push away the thought, get dressed, and step back out front. By the time I’m done, I have an entire wardrobe. Day clothes, night clothes, shoes stacked in boxes higher than my hips, and a small velvet tray of jewelry that Kirill approved with a nod and a quiet, “She will need those.”
I lose track of the numbers as the manager lists them off, but I catch the total when she says it to him, and my brain just stalls.
$765,427.85.
Almost a million dollars. On me.
Kirill doesn’t even blink. He simply hands her a card.
This is insane.
When we’re done, he loads the car with our purchases, and once we’re all settled, he gets back on the road.
“Did you have fun?” His palm lands on my knee, massaging it gently.
“Yes, thank you.” A blush creeps up my neck. “I felt like a princess.”
“Good.” He glances at me, his hand still on my knee. “But you’re no princess.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly too tight.
“You’re a queen.”
A slow burn climbs my spine. His words mean more than he realizes.
Minutes tick by, and I expect us to be heading home…but instead, he pulls into a car dealership. A winged B logo and the word Bentley sit on the front of a wide one-story building.
“Are you…buying a new car?” I ask as we step out, Lev rushing up to hold both our hands.
“Yes,” he says simply, leading us into the showroom.
Rows of vehicles gleam under bright lights, each one more intimidating than the last. We walk past them, and I can’t help staring, admiring each one.
“If you could choose any car here for yourself, which would it be?”
The question catches me off guard. I can’t even imagine owning something like this.
A huff of a laugh leaves me. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m more of a ‘whatever doesn’t die on the highway’ kind of girl.”
A hint of amusement crosses his face. “Humor me. Look around.”
“Okay.”
What’s the harm in that, right? I let go of Lev’s hand and wander down the row, passing over the sleek sports cars, stopping at the glossy SUVs. One in particular catches my eye: a medium-sized navy SUV.
“This one.” I run my hand over the shiny paint.
Kirill comes up beside me, following my gaze. “Why that?”
“It’s a good size.” My cheeks burn like I’m on a job interview. “Practical. Higher off the ground. I’d feel safer in something like this. And…I don’t know. It looks like it could handle snow and potholes without falling apart.”
“Hmm. What about the color?”
I shrug, fingers fidgeting with the hem of my tank. “I actually like this one.”
His eyes stay on me, something passing through them too quickly to name. Then he turns to the salesman who’s been hovering at a respectful distance, clearly waiting for his moment.
“We’ll take the blue Bentayga,” Kirill says, voice switching into that crisp, business tone that makes people snap to attention. “Top package. Everything.”
The salesman practically glows. “Of course, Mr. Marinov. We can have it detailed and delivered to your residence this afternoon. We’ll include the extended maintenance plan, the upgraded sound system, rear entertainment screens, custom interior detailing, ceramic coating… everything you had on the last one.”
My God, how many cars does he have? I’ve seen at least three in the driveway alone.
“And I want bulletproof windows,” Kirill adds, like he’s ordering extra sauce on a pizza. “As always.”
“Of course, sir.” The salesman nods. “We’ll make sure it has the full security package, per your usual specifications.”
He finishes the deal in a handful of signatures and a firm shake of hands.
Lev has wandered over to stare at another SUV, humming to himself, fingers smoothing over the seam where two panels meet.
When we finally step back out into the daylight, my brain’s still somewhere inside counting zeros, wondering how it can be so easy to spend that much money in one day.
Kirill strolls beside me, one hand on Lev’s shoulder, the other brushing lightly against my back every few steps, as if he’s making sure I stay within arm’s reach.
“I really hope you liked that car,” he says after a moment, eyes trained ahead.
I let out a shaky laugh. “Why does that matter? It’s your car.”
He stops walking and faces me fully, his attention pinning me in place.
“It matters…” He clasps my hand, thumb stroking over my skin. “Because I bought it for you, solnishko.”
“Wh-what?” I blink back in shock. “Kirill, no. That’s…that’s too much. The clothes were already…this is…” The words scrape out of my throat.
“It’s not too much. You’ll be taking care of my son, remember? You’ll be driving him. I want you both protected at all times.”
Right. This is about Lev. Nothing more.
“I understand. Thank you.”
He takes a half step closer, and my lungs forget how to work properly. Lev stands next to him, headphones clasped over his ears, absorbed in examining the rims of another vehicle, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing right next to him.
“I take care of what is mine,” he says, gruff and somehow gentle at the same time. “And you are mine, Sloane.”
His? How…
His knuckles brush down my cheek, a barely there touch that still manages to send a shiver all the way through me. My body leans into it before I can stop myself, traitorous and hungry for every bit of warmth he offers.
I close my eyes for one stolen second, letting myself feel it: the safety, the belonging, the way his claim wraps around this part inside me that has been starving for far too long.
Then I open them again and remember.
Remember Eli’s threats. Remember Milo. Remember the ledger I’m supposed to find in this man’s house.
Kirill’s thumb pauses at the corner of my mouth, those dark and probing eyes searching mine as if he’s trying to read all the things I’m not saying.
“I don’t deserve any of this.” My voice cracks.
“Maybe not in your mind.” He holds my face in both hands. “But in mine, you do.”
Tears sting my eyes.
He doesn’t know how wrong he actually is.