Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
KIRILL
“Kirill.” She says my name like it hurts, tears spilling down her cheeks, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel.
I shouldn’t care. Nothing she says changes what she’s done. To me. To us.
Killing her should be easy. I’ve killed men for less, and this kind of betrayal…it should end her. But I can’t fucking do it.
Maybe my father was right all along. Maybe I am weak. Maybe this is what happens when you let someone get too close, when you start to care in a way you were never meant to.
I had my suspicions after the park, after I saw her with that bastard, but when she went into my office and removed the painting, I didn’t stop her. I wanted to see what she was after. What she was planning.
I still don’t know.
Tapping her phone would’ve been easy. I could’ve had every answer handed to me, but I didn’t want to be that man.
I should’ve been. Trusting someone, it costs something. It always does.
When I watched her break into my safe and take the ledger, I knew that was probably what she’d been after all along. But then she found the file, and the look on her face—the confusion, the shock—it almost thrilled me.
It doesn’t matter that she knows. I have nothing to hide.
She’s the one who lied to me. The one who played me. All I’ve done since the moment she walked into my life is protect her, and she threw it all away like it meant nothing.
Didn’t she realize I would’ve helped her if she’d just told me? That I would’ve torn Eli apart for even looking at her?
How the hell am I supposed to come back from this?
But then she looks at me, really looks at me, with tears clinging to her lashes, and my chest twists. Because what I said was true. It was the truest thing I’ve admitted in a long time. I can’t—I don’t want to—live without her.
But how do I move past it?
Her hand comes up, brushing my cheek again, and a growl drags out of me, because even now, even after everything…every inch of her still feels like mine.
Her voice fractures around my name, thick with tears, and everything in me cracks clean in half. Whatever control I had left is gone.
I take her mouth like I’ve been starving for it. Rough, consuming, the kind of kiss that drags everything ugly and unspoken straight to the surface. My hand fists her hair, holding her exactly where I want her as she kisses me just as hard.
I taste the salt of her tears, feel the heat of her breath against mine, the way her lips move like we’re both trying to erase what just happened.
Like we can burn through it if we push hard enough.
Her fingers bunch into my shirt, gripping tight, and that small, desperate touch has me forgetting how badly she hurt me.
Blyat.
“I can’t lose you.” The words cut deep.
“You won’t,” she breathes.
I don’t know if it’s a promise or a lie, and right now, I don’t give a damn. I kiss her again, deeper, harsher, until she moans for me. Because she’s mine, damn it. All mine.
My hands move down her sides and back up, gripping her like I need to remind myself she’s here, that she’s real, that she didn’t just walk into my life to tear it apart. Every inch of her fits under my touch like she was made to be there.
Her hands push my jacket off, tugging at my shirt, and I let her. I let her take what she needs. The moment her palms press against my back, a sharp sensation gnaws in me, like my body doesn’t know what to do with the feeling clawing through it.
But I don’t stop. I push her back, our mouths still locked, breaths colliding, until her thighs meet the edge of my desk.
My grip slides to her hips, and I lift her without breaking the kiss, setting her on the surface.
Everything on the desk goes in one rough sweep of my arm, papers and whatever else crashing to the floor.
None of it matters. Only her. Only this. This…this madness. The way she gets under my skin. The way she makes me forget what she did, forget everything except the way she feels against me.
I step between her knees, crowding her against the desk, and when I pull back to take her in, every muscle in me locks at the sight of her.
Tear-streaked. Breathing hard. Looking at me like I’m the only thing keeping her standing.
“You drive me insane,” I tell her.
Her arms come around my neck, pulling me back to her, and I go without hesitation. My mouth crashes into hers again, harder this time, like I need to leave something behind, something she won’t be able to walk away from.
My grip tightens at her waist, dragging her closer, needing more even when it still doesn’t feel like enough. Our clothes come off in impatient pulls, buttons slipping, fabric dragging against skin, the sound of it turning frantic.
There’s nothing careful about it. Just two people who nearly destroyed each other and chose to burn anyway, while I chase one thing: proof she’s still here. That she didn’t just tear through my life and leave me standing in the wreckage.
I lay her naked against the desk, grabbing her hips until they fall just slightly off the edge. As I push my body over her, my forehead presses to hers, our breathing uneven, colliding between us.
“You’re mine.”
“Kirill…”
I take her mouth again, swallowing the sound, holding her there, keeping her right where I need her. Because if I let go…
I don’t know what the hell happens next.
“You belong to me,” I rasp against her lips before I kiss her again, unable to stand even a second without her.
Her fingers clutch at my shoulders, my back, gripping like I’m the only thing keeping her from coming apart. And I want to be that for her.
The desk presses into her, but neither of us slows down. Nothing exists except this. Except her. Except the way she looks at me like she’s already fallen too far to climb out, and maybe I have too.
My mouth drags from her lips to her jaw, tracing the line of it, taking my time before moving lower and pull a nipple between my lips as her pulse races beneath my touch. A hand moves to her throat and I narrow my grip, eyes on her as I touch her clit before sliding two fingers inside her.
“Your cunt is sucking me in like it’s afraid I’ll let go. And maybe that’s exactly what I should do.” In one fluid motion, I flip her over the desk. “But I can’t seem to do that.”
I slam my cock inside her, her fingers curling against the desk as her pussy contracts around me, aching for more while she cries out.
I grip her hair and draw her in, my lips brushing her ear. “Ti moya. Tolko moya. Ti sozdana dlya menya.” You’re mine. Only mine. You were made for me.
Before I can think, I slam into her, harder this time.
She’s close. I can feel it in the way her body tightens, the way her pussy clings to me like she’s about to fall apart. I slip a hand to her core, rubbing her slow. My grip tightens in her hair, holding her exactly where I want her.
“You’re mine. Do you understand? Only mine.”
“Yes…yours,” she gasps, the words breaking apart as my pace increases, stretching her, filling her until I can’t anymore.
“And you won’t lie to me again.” My tone hardens as I drag my cock out before pounding back inside her.
“Yes—yes, I won’t.” She trembles. “I’m sorry…I won’t.”
“Good girl.” A growl escapes as I slap her ass and my fingers return, pinching and stroking her there until she spasms, unable to fight it anymore.
I don’t let up, keeping her right on the edge until she breaks. Until her body gives in completely, the sound of my name tearing out of her as she comes apart beneath me, squirting all over the floor.
“Oh God, Kirill, yes!”
The way she says my name…it hits me hard.
Something brutally possessive takes over, and I know that no matter what she does, I want her anyway.
I bury my face against her neck, a low growl leaving me as I lose myself in the moment, holding her there as I release inside her, my grip tightening in her hair.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Left in the aftermath of everything that just happened.
Pressing my mouth to her shoulder, I leave a slow line of kisses there as she lets out a nervous laugh.
“I, uh, definitely didn’t expect this when I imagined what would happen if you ever caught me.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I catch her chin and turn her just enough so she has to look at me over her shoulder.
“If you were anyone else…” My words come out rough. “I would’ve killed you.”
My jaw tightens as the rest of it rises behind those words, harder to say than anything I’ve ever said.
Blyat.
“But I—” The words catch and stall in my throat.
She watches me, waiting. “You what?”
I just stare at her. Because this? This is worse than anything I’ve ever had to say. Worse than pulling a trigger. Worse than ending someone’s life without a second thought.
This matters. Too much.
Turning her fully, I force her to look at me until there’s nowhere for either of us to hide.
My knuckles drag slowly along her cheek. “I love you, Sloane.”
There’s no taking it back once it’s out.
“You…you love me?” Her eyes search mine like she’s waiting for me to take it back. “Are you crazy?”
A dry laugh leaves me. “Probably.” My mouth grazes the corner of hers before I kiss her again. “Can’t seem to help it.” I pull back just enough to look at her. “Hope that’s not a problem.”
She lets out a small, shaky laugh. “No. Not at all.”
Her hands slide up to my shoulders, and mine go straight to her waist, dragging her flush against me.
“Because I love you too, Kirill.”
My eyes shut because I wasn’t expecting her to say it back, and when I open them, my fingers sink into her hips. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you, detka?”
“That wasn’t my intention.” She leans in, brushing a kiss along my jaw, and a low sound slips out of me.
“Yet you’re doing it.”
Her face presses into my chest. “I really am sorry. For everything.”
My hand comes to rest over the back of her head. “We’ll figure it out, detka. All of it.”
She squeezes me, her words spilling out like she can’t hold them in. “I never thought this would ever happen for me. To fall in love, to have someone love me back. And I don’t even know how this will work between us, but I want you. I want us to date and get to know each other and—”
A chuckle slips out of me, cutting her off.
She stills instantly, reading the shift in me as she pulls back, her brows furrowing. “What’s wrong?”
Dating. Getting to know each other. Is that really what she thinks is going to happen?
No. Not after what she just told me.
I step away, reaching for my pants and pulling them on. “We won’t be dating, Sloane.”
“What?” She scrambles for her clothes and slips them on, confusion settling across her face.
“You’re going to marry me. Tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Her mouth falls open, like she can’t make sense of what I’m saying.
I finish getting dressed and look her straight in the eyes. “You heard me. You will be my wife. You will have my name. And every man, including Eli, will know you’re a Marinova now.”
Her hands drag through her hair as she starts pacing. “No. No, I can’t marry you. This is insane. We don’t even know each other.”
I stop her, catching her wrist and pulling her against my chest. “We know enough.” My hand slides to the back of her neck. “And this is happening.”
She shakes her head, still staring at me like she’s waiting for me to come to my senses.
“I’ll arrange it here,” I tell her. “There will be a priest my family has used for years. He’ll come to the house and perform the ceremony. It will be quick.”
She stares at me, waiting for the punchline that never comes. “You’re really serious.”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“Kirill—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “You don’t understand the situation you’re in. The only protection strong enough to keep men like Eli from touching you is my name.” I cup her cheek, unable to stop myself. “My wife.”
Just saying it has my heart beating harder.
“And my son?” Her eyes fill with worry. “What happens to Milo in all of this?”
Does she really think I would leave him there?
“After school today, we go get him.”
She jerks back. “Oh my God. Really?”
“Of course. If you’d told me sooner, he would already be here.”
Her gaze drops to the floor, and I can see the realization settling in at last: that I would’ve done anything for her. Anything.
“But my sister—”
“What about her?”
That woman means less than nothing to me.
“What if she calls the police?”
“Sloane.” A humorless laugh pulls from me. “We own most of the police in this state. And if she tries anything, it will be the last thing she does.”
Her eyes widen. “Do you mean…”
She can’t even finish the thought, just stares at me like I’m both the hero and the villain in her story.
And that’s exactly what I am.