Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ivan
I stayed away from Anna during this time.
I was afraid Sergei would set his sights on her.
Even though I wasn't by her side, every detail of her life played out before my eyes.
Especially today.
That damn Chris showed up at her place with roses.
What the hell was he trying to do? Didn't he care about everything that had happened between Anna and me?
On the screen, Anna turned and opened the door. She invited him in.
In that instant, my sanity went up in flames.
She knew exactly what that guy wanted, and she still let him in. A man and a woman, alone. Would he stay the night? Would he touch her? Would he—
I couldn't let myself finish the thought.
Jealousy surged up from my gut like acid, burning through every organ in my body.
That bastard Chris—Ivy League grad, perfectly dressed, knew all the right things to say, knew how to charm women. Every goddamn thing about him was cleaner than me, better than me.
Anna had been his friend for years. He knew every part of her life, everything about who she had been as a student.
And me? I was nothing more than a man who had spent two decades crawling through the darkness of the criminal world—blood staining my hands, a gun weighing down my pocket.
I could never give her a future she could claim openly and without shame.
The only thing I could do was hide behind a screen like a sick man, watching her life from the shadows.
"Boss, looks like the kid's going to propose to Ms. Bennett." Dmitri's voice cut through.
Propose?
The word seared into me like a red-hot brand.
My throat worked for a long moment before I could force the words out through clenched teeth. "Shut up."
On the monitor, the curtains drew closed. Warm yellow light leaked through the edges. I couldn't see anything, but that blurred glow was like a thin needle, jabbing at my frayed nerves over and over.
Every frame made me want to kill someone.
No. I couldn't wait anymore.
I grabbed my jacket off the chair and bolted. Dmitri shouted after me on the phone, but I ignored him.
I drove like hell. New York's neon lights streaked past the windows, slicing into my eyes. Only one thought pounded through my head—Anna was mine, and if Chris laid one finger on her, he was a dead man.
Red light at the corner. I slammed the brakes. The tires screamed against the pavement. I gripped the steering wheel, palms slick with sweat.
But what if—
What if she'd fallen for Chris?
Should I let her go? Could I let her go?
No. I couldn't lie to myself. Just thinking about her in someone else's arms, smiling at someone else, calling out someone else's name—I wanted to blow up all of New York.
Green light. I floored it. The car shot forward like an enraged beast.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up outside her apartment building.
The car went silent except for my ragged breathing.
I looked up. Her window glowed with light, warm yellow seeping through the curtains. Exactly like the monitor feed.
I shoved the door open, got out, slammed it shut, and walked toward the building with heavy steps.
The motion-sensor lights flickered on with each floor I climbed.
Outside her door, I took three deep breaths before I knocked.
The door opened.
Anna stood there, that welcoming smile still on her face. When she saw it was me, the smile froze.
"Ivan? What are you doing here?"
I didn't answer. I looked past her into the living room. Chris was already gone.
"Where's Chris?" I asked.
Anna closed the door. Then it hit her. "How did you know Chris was here?"
The silence was deafening. I could hear her breathing quicken.
Suddenly, she grabbed my arm. "You're watching me, aren't you?"
Sharp kitten.
I turned to look at her.
Her face had gone pale. Her honey-gold hair trembled with agitation. Her eyes blazed with a fury I'd never seen before—like a small wild animal whose territory had been invaded.
"I knew these past few days were too smooth, too off—"
"Ivan Volkov, you're absolutely insane! How could you have someone spy on me!"
Her words were knives, each one stabbing into my heart.
I lost it. Days of suppressed jealousy, fear, obsession—it all erupted at once, burning away every shred of control.
"Insane? Yeah, I am a fucking lunatic!"
I stared at her hard. "If I wasn't worried about you, you think I'd use these lowlife tactics?"
"Worried about me?" Her voice pitched higher, eyes turning red. "Your worry made you spy on me? Ivan, you're too controlling! What gives you the right to interfere with my life? What gives you the right to have me watched? What am I to you? Your property?"
Property?
Yeah. I wanted to hide her away. I wanted her to belong completely to me.
Her words made my head throb. The darkest thoughts I'd buried came rushing up my throat.
"Controlling? Anna, you're just now figuring out I'm controlling?" I laughed, but there was no joy in it. "Let me tell you what real control is. It's not watching you—it's locking you up, keeping you by my side, making sure you never see anyone but me for the rest of your life!"
Yes.
That was what I thought would actually work.
Lock her up. Keep her safe. Make sure she only faced me.
Her eyes went wide, like she couldn't believe I'd said it.
The terror in that look was a poisoned blade, driving straight into my pounding heart.
Anna was afraid of me.
She was afraid of me! That look of fear hurt worse than any insult she could've thrown at me.
"Get out! Get out now! I don't want to see you again!"
She reached out, shoving at me.
I grabbed her wrist. Made my decision.
I'd had enough!
Enough of only being able to watch her through a screen. Enough of her hot and cold. Enough of other men wanting her.
Maybe my way was the only practical way. I'd love her my way. Protect her my way.
I grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the door. She screamed my name, kicked at my legs.
She sobbed and shouted. "Ivan, this is kidnapping!"
"Kidnapping?" I steeled myself. "Then I'm kidnapping you."
Anna's tears burned against my arm. "Anna, listen to me. You're coming with me today. If you fight me one more time, I'll have my lawyers file for custody of Alex immediately."
The words worked like magic. Anna stopped struggling.
She'd never said it, but I'd figured it out long ago—what she feared most was being separated from her child.
I could feel her body trembling, but she didn't dare move again.
I dragged her toward the elevator. The hallway lights blinked on and off.
She stayed silent the whole way, tears streaming down, soaking my shirt sleeve.
I knew I was a bastard. I knew I was scum. But I had no other choice.
I had to protect her. Couldn't lose her. Couldn't let her stay near anyone else. Even if she hated me. Even if she never forgave me. I had to take her with me.