Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kirill
Control has always been my only constant.
In this world, emotion is a luxury dangerous men cannot afford. Let your feelings rule you and you make stupid decisions. Impulsive ones, reckless ones.
You hesitate when you should pull the trigger. You spare someone you should kill. You trust the wrong person. And in my line of work, hesitation gets you buried.
I learned that lesson early and I’ve lived by it. No attachments. No weakness. No feelings that can be used against me.
Until her.
Last night, I was anything but in control.
I crossed a line I swore I never would. I’ve never touched a client. Never even been tempted. But Milana… she shattered every rule I’ve lived by.
I didn’t just cross the line. I burned it to the ground. I took her. I buried myself inside her raw, no protection, no restraint. The first woman I’ve ever had without a condom. The first woman who’s ever made me lose my fucking mind like that.
I’ve never met anyone who affects me the way Milana does. She knows exactly how to get under my skin, sending my pulse through the roof with a single look or smart remark. Then, just as quickly, she calms the storm she started without even realizing she’s doing it.
When she told me she was a virgin, I should have left the room like I had planned to. A better man would have walked away. But I’m not a good man.
I tried, for one weak second, I tried. But the way she looked at me, the way she pleaded… I couldn’t deny her. I couldn’t deny myself.
Now I’ve tasted her. I’ve felt how perfectly she squeezed around my cock. I’ve watched her come apart underneath me, while her virgin blood marked me. I want more. I want her all to myself.
Because the thought of another man ever touching her makes my blood boil. The idea of someone else inside her, hearing her moans, claiming what I took last night. It awakens something dark and violent in me.
I know it's irrational. She isn’t mine. She never was. But reason has very little power over whatever has taken root inside me.
I’ve spent years making sure nothing could get under my skin. No weakness. No distraction. And somehow, the first woman I fall for is the one woman I was never meant to touch.
If her brothers ever find out what I’ve done to their precious sister, they’ll try to kill me. And Michael… he still believes I’m his weapon. If he finds out I’ve compromised the mission, he’ll come for her even harder.
This is exactly why men like me aren’t supposed to want anything. The moment you have something to lose, someone else learns how to use it against you.
And in less than an hour, I’ll be sitting across from Michael, listening to him plan how to use Milana.
The idea no longer sits right with me. The thought of handing her over, of letting Michael use her to hurt them… it makes my jaw clench so hard it aches.
That man makes my trigger finger itch every damn time I see his face. Every meeting with Michael feels like a test of restraint.
And today, it’s going to take everything I have to not finally pull that trigger.
The house is still dark when I slip out just past 5:00 a.m. I checked on Milana before leaving, she was curled up in bed, breathing softly, looking far too peaceful for the chaos I’ve dragged her into.
A part of me wanted to leave her a note. But I didn’t. I’m not sure what I would have written.
I’m sorry for everything I’m about to put you through?
Or—
If you knew who I really was, you’d never have let me touch you.
I get into the car and drive toward the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city where I meet Michael. The roads are nearly empty at this hour, allowing me to make the drive in record time.
I arrive at the warehouse and park. I stay in the car, waiting. Ten minutes pass before Michael’s SUV finally pulls in.
He steps out, looking every bit the entitled son of a fallen king. Tall and lean, with sharp, aristocratic features, pale eyes, and dark blond hair styled with meticulous precision.
He dresses like old money, tailored suits, silk shirts, expensive watch glinting on his wrist. But there’s a restless, unstable edge to him.
He’s like a bug. Small, irritating, and capable of spreading disease if left unchecked.
He inherited his father’s connections, along with access to high ranking people and resources. Unfortunately, he also inherited none of his father’s discipline.
I get out and slam the door harder than necessary.
“You know I hate being kept waiting,” I say coldly.
Michael spreads his hands, flashing an apologetic smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Traffic was—”
“I don’t give a fuck about traffic,” I cut him off. “If you call a meeting, you show up on time. The last time you didn’t show, and now you’re keeping me waiting. This is the second time you’ve wasted my time. There won’t be a third. If you can’t honor our agreement, then we don’t have one.”
Michael’s expression falters for a second before he forces a laugh. “Come on, Kirill. It’s not that serious. What crawled up your ass, man?”
I take a step closer. “Say that again.”
The amusement drains from his face. “I’m sorry, alright? It won’t happen again.”
I stare at him, letting the silence stretch. He now looks uncomfortable as hell. “Are we good?”
I lean against my car, arms crossed, staring him down. “Why did you ask to see me?”
“How did the meeting with her brothers go? Were you able to get anything useful?”
I shrug, keeping a straight face. “Not much. They’re planning something against you, but I couldn’t get the details before we got attacked.”
Michael winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh crap,” he mutters. “I knew they should have waited a little longer before shooting.”
My blood runs cold. “The restaurant attack… that was you?”
Artyom and Mikhail suspected Michael was behind the attack at the restaurant.
I didn’t.
I figured even Michael wasn’t reckless enough to order an attack while I was still inside with the one asset he hadn’t finished using.
Turns out I gave him too much credit.
Reckless doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Michael actually smiles, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
“Yeah. I told those idiots to wait a little longer, but they got impatient. I wanted to send a message. Cool huh?”
For a second, I can’t find the words. This fool is even worse than I thought.
“You fucking idiot,” I snarl, stepping forward.
Michael instinctively backs up. “You put my life at risk. You put her life at risk. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Hey, relax man—” Michael starts, hands up.
“Relax?” I cut him off, voice lethal. “I was in there with her when your men opened fire. Bullets were flying everywhere. She could have died. I could have died. Is this some kind of fucking game to you?”
Michael visibly shrinks, his pale eyes widening in fear. The idiot is actually shaking. He tries to laugh it off, but it comes out weak.
“Come on, Kirill. No one died. The girl’s fine. I just wanted to rattle her brothers a little bit. To let them know they’re still breathing because I haven’t given the final order yet.”
I’m one second away from putting a bullet in his head right here.
“So, this is a game to you?” I growl, stepping closer until he’s backed against his car.
“You send me in to protect her, to keep her close, and then you try to blow the whole place up while I’m standing right next to her?
You didn’t even warn me. What the fuck was your plan? What if one of those bullets hit her?”
Michael swallows hard, clearly scared. “I… I trusted you’d handle it. You always do. You protected her, right? Seems like you’re taking this job a little too seriously. Is she still just a job to you… or has she become more?”
His words hit like a knife between the ribs.
I grab him by the collar and slam him against the car. “Shut the fuck up. Never try this shit again. If you do, I’ll put a bullet in your head myself and walk away from this entire deal. Do you understand me?”
Michael nods rapidly, eyes wide with fear. “Y-yeah. Fine. Next time I’ll let you know before anything happens.” He winces. “Can you let go now? You’re cutting off my circulation.”
I release him with a shove and force myself to walk away. I slam the door and drive off, tires screeching. If I’d stayed another second, I’d have killed him.
But his question keeps ringing in my head.
Has she become more?
I grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. I already know the answer to that. I'm becoming attached to her, and that attachment… it’s becoming lethal.
For both of us.