FIFTY-SIX
Milan
PRESENT
“Any news from Damian?” I ask Shin over the phone while Aliya is still in the bathroom drying her hair.
I’m standing on the balcony, taking a deep drag from my cigarette. The icy December wind bites at my skin, and thick snowflakes swirl around me.
“No, still nothing.”
We’ve been looking for him over a week now, and we still have no idea where he’s hiding. Henry Reynolds knows all about the trouble his son has been causing and is probably trying to cover for him.
“He can’t just have vanished into thin air,” I say, frustrated. “He must be somewhere.”
After Aliya told me everything that son of a bitch has done, my anger toward him has multiplied. I thought we were friends, but he’s been playing mind games behind my back this whole time.
He’s responsible for what happened to Aliya last week. I wish I had broken more than just his nose when I had the chance.
“If we find him …” I take another drag and watch the smoke disappear into the cold air. “I’ll break his kneecaps so he can’t just run off.”
“We’ll find him, Milan. It’s just a matter of time. He can’t hide forever.”
I run a hand through my hair with a sigh, grateful that at least Shin is on my side. But the thought of Damian still being out there doesn’t sit well with me. I know what a sick bastard he is and how dangerous he can get when he’s pushed to his limits.
Shin and I were a crucial anchor in his life. Damian has always been a ticking time bomb, and without us, he’s bound to explode.
“He knows how to harbor anger. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll do anything to get revenge.”
“That’s what worries me,” Shin replies. “He won’t stop at anything to get what he wants. And right now, he probably wants revenge.”
God forbid he dares to get near Aliya.
“Milan?” Aliya steps onto the balcony but pauses when she sees I’m on the phone.
“We’ll talk later, Shin.” I hang up and turn to her. “Yes, sweetheart?”
She wraps her arms around herself, trying to warm up. Her hair is still damp from the shower, cascading in loose waves down her back. The cold has slightly reddened her cheeks, highlighting the delicate freckles on her face.
She looks so disheveled that I feel a surge of desire, even though I’ve already had her in the shower.
I can never get enough of her.
“About tomorrow … I think I should stay here.”
I inhale deeply from my cigarette. “Why should you stay here?”
I watch her hesitate for a moment, her fingers curling around the hem of her top.
“I … I don’t want to see my mother. I can’t, Milan.”
My muscles tense at the mention.
Robert and Amber Wilson.
I’ve never met them in person, but just hearing their names is enough to make my blood boil. Those fucking people who claim to be her parents are nothing more than selfish parasites who hurt her whenever they had the chance. Spineless worms who stood by and watched her suffer.
“They won’t be there, Sweetheart.”
Her brows furrow in confusion. “How do you know that?”
The only reason I’m even attending this business dinner is because Evan and I struck a deal. It took nothing more than a snap of his fingers to ruin the small company, Wilson Engineering. In exchange, I agreed to take a more active role in his business from now on.
Robert Wilson is bankrupt, and I doubt he’ll have the nerve to show his face in high society after that humiliation.
“Trust me. They won’t be there.”
She frowns, but then nods.
As much as I’d have preferred to kill them, I decided to let them live, knowing they’d suffer under the weight of my wrath. But Daniel Wilson isn’t getting off that easy.
I can almost taste my vengeance on my tongue with the flavor of nicotine. The second I get my hands on him, nothing and no one will save him from me.
Leaning against the railing, I motion her over. “Come here, Little Curse.”
Aliya hesitates, but she knows better than to disobey. She steps closer, and I grab her by the arm, pulling her to me, wrapping my arms around her to shield her from the cold.
She wrinkles her nose. “You’re smoking again.”
“Wanna try?”
I take a drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoke before gently tilting her chin up with my hand. I let the smoke slip past my lips and blow it directly into her face with a smirk.
She grimaces in disgust. “Gross.”
“Don’t act all innocent, sweetheart. You know everything I do will rub off on you.”
I blow another puff of smoke her way just to irritate her. But this time, instead of just wrinkling her nose, she surprises me by snatching the cigarette out of my hand. I’m momentarily stunned as she takes a deep drag, only to start coughing immediately.
“I knew it. Gross.”
I can’t help but grin.
She’s so fucking adorable.
It’s a miracle she’s lasted this long without me completely corrupting her.
“Are you trying to seduce me, sweetheart?”
She looks up at me, her eyes watery, her chest rising and falling as she tries to recover from the smoke-induced coughing fit. “That was just a taste.”
Despite her innocence, there’s a fiery side to her. One I’m determined to bring out even more.
“Just a taste?” I take the cigarette back and bring it to my lips, inhaling slowly, my eyes fixed on her with a playful grin. “Then let me give you a proper taste.”
I lean in, my lips just inches from hers, the smoke and warmth of the cigarette still lingering in my lungs.
“Open your mouth.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she does as I say, parting her lips. With careful precision, I blow the smoke into her mouth, watching as the cloud disappears between her parted lips.
Her eyes are closed as the smoke fills her lungs, her body pressed dangerously close to mine. I can feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest, and it only intensifies my desire to corrupt her.
“Swallow it,” I command.
Her throat moves as she swallows the smoke like a good girl, her breaths coming in short, shaky puffs.
“See? Not so gross now, is it?”
“No, I guess it isn’t,” she replies, her voice a little husky. “But I like the taste of something else better.”
My smirk fades instantly.
She smiles, fully aware that she’s stepping into dangerous territory.
“Careful, sweetheart,” I warn, stubbing out my cigarette. “That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble.”
“Is that a threat?” she asks innocently, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“It’s a promise.”
I spin us around, pressing her back against the railing, trapping her between it and my body.
I watch as her grin turns into a wicked giggle. Her laughter is like music to my ears, and I can’t help but admire her fiery spirit.
Her lips are rosy and kissable, her skin flushed from the cold and our little game.
She’s silent for a while, tilting her head back as snowflakes land on her face. Her eyes, those captivating emerald pools lock onto mine through her long lashes.
She’s fucking beautiful, so goddamn perfect.
Beautiful, perfect and mine.
Every single part of her, right down to her soul. Only mine.
And I know I’m addicted. Addicted to her touch, her smile, her voice, her warmth.
Madly obsessed with her.
Because she heals the dark scars of my soul that I didn’t even know existed.
Just as she is mine, I am hers.