Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kirill
By the time we step out of the elevator and into the apartment, the silence has become another person standing between us.
The kitchen is spotless. There’s no blood on the floor. No shattered glass. No trace of the chaos that unfolded here just a few hours ago.
On the way to the station, I’d texted one of my men and told him to have the place professionally cleaned before we got back. He’d done his job well.
She slips off her shoes without looking at me. “I’m going to clean up,” she says quietly.
I nod. “Okay.” I hesitate. “When you’re done… we should talk.”
She gives a small nod and walks away without another word.
While she’s in the bathroom, I pull out my phone and order takeout from the first decent restaurant I find. Food is the last thing on my mind, but she’s had one hell of a day. She needs to eat.
While I wait, I head to my bathroom to clean up and change into fresh clothes.
By the time I come back out, the food has already arrived. The concierge calls to let me know the delivery is downstairs. I head to the lobby, collect it, and bring it back up to plate everything in the kitchen.
The sound of footsteps makes me look up.
Milana walks in.
Her hair is still damp from her shower, falling over the shoulders of an oversized T-shirt. She’s wearing loose pajama pants instead of the tiny shorts she’s worn around me every day since we arrived.
She’s covered up. Keeping herself hidden. Keeping herself safe. From me. Another knife twists in my chest.
I slide a plate toward her. “I ordered food.”
“Thank you.”
She takes the plate and chooses the stool farthest from mine.
She picks at the food, taking small bites without any real appetite.
I don’t touch mine. Watching her hurts enough. I can see how cautious she is now. The way she keeps her eyes on me like she’s waiting for me to turn into the monster she thinks I am.
“You don’t have to be scared of me,” I say softly. “I would never hurt you.”
She doesn’t respond. After only a few bites, she sets her fork down. “I’m done.”
I gather the plates and carry them to the sink. When I turn back around, she’s watching me.
“Before we talk…”
She hesitates.
“Can you take your gun off?”
I blink. “What?”
She closes her eyes for a second before opening them again.
“Will you please just do it?”
I reach beneath my shirt and unholster the pistol from my waistband.
I eject the magazine, rack the slide, catch the chambered round. Then I place the unloaded gun on the kitchen island and slide it well out of my reach.
“There.”
“Better?”
She nods. “Can we go talk in the living room instead?”
I follow her gaze and see her eyes flick to the knife block behind me. It hurts more than I expect. She thinks I might grab one and hurt her.
Without another word, I follow her to the living room. She takes the chair farthest from me.
I sit down across from her, giving her as much space as she needs.
“Start talking,” she says quietly. “Maybe start with your real name.”
I look at her for a long moment, trying to find the right words.
“Kirill.”
She huffs. “Why am I not surprised?”
“First of all, you have every right to be hurt,” I say. “This is not how things were meant to turn out.”
A bitter laugh escapes her. “No?” She looks up at me, her eyes shining with fresh tears. “How was it supposed to happen?”
She holds my gaze. “Were you supposed to kill me?”
The question hangs between us. I could lie. Instead, I force myself to tell her the truth. “…Yes.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
The tears she’d been holding back finally spill over. “I see.”
I drag a hand down my face.
“But I need you to hear the rest before you decide what kind of man I am.”
She says nothing.
“When Michael hired me, that was the plan. Find you. Earn your trust. Use you to get close to your brothers.”
“How did you know Ilya was supposed to come get me in Manchester?”
I draw a slow breath. “Through Michael. He contacted me shortly after your brothers reached out to Konstantin.
“He heard that your brothers had reached out to Konstantin to bring you back safely from England. So he pulled strings, sabotaged Konstantin’s business, kept him busy out of the country. That’s why Konstantin couldn’t come himself.”
Milana’s eyes widen. “How could Michael have known? That was just between my family and Konstantin. Konstantin is loyal to my brothers.”
I shake my head. “That’s what you think.
Milana… conversations like that are almost never as private as people think they are.
Guards overhear things. Household staff hear names.
Drivers catch pieces of conversations. Someone mentions something to the wrong person without realizing it. Information leaks. It always does.”
She stares at me.
“Not everyone around powerful people is loyal. Some people are loyal to whoever pays more.”
The realization slowly dawns on her face. “So when Konstantin decided to send Ilya instead… that’s when Michael contacted you.”
“Yes. I questioned him until I had everything, I needed to become him.”
She swallows hard.
“Then I came to England.”
“The plan was to use you to get closer to your brothers. Gather information about their businesses. Feed it to Michael so he could destroy them from the inside.”
“And then?”
I don’t answer immediately.
“And then,” she repeats.
“When he’d taken everything he wanted…” My voice lowers. “…he was going to kill you.”
The room falls silent.
“So…” she whispers. “You’ve been feeding Michael information about my brothers.”
“No.”
Her eyes snap back to mine.
“Not for a while.”
“What changed?”
I laugh once. It’s hollow. “I’ve been asking myself the same question.”
She studies me, searching my face. Then another thought seems to strike her. She folds her arms tighter around herself.
“And sleeping with me?”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid.
“Was that part of the assignment too?”
“No.”
She waits.
“I never touched you because Michael wanted me to.”
“Then why?”
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
Because the answer has been staring me in the face for days, and I’ve been too much of a coward to admit it.
“You asked why I stopped giving Michael information.”
I hold her gaze.
“You asked why I never carried out the rest of the plan.”
She nods once.
I let out a slow breath. “Because somewhere along the way…” The words catch in my throat. “…you stopped being a job.”
Confusion flickers across her face. “I don’t understand.”
“It means…” I rub a hand over my jaw. “It means every decision I made after meeting you stopped making sense.”
She looks confused. “What does that mean?”
I swallow hard. The words feel foreign on my tongue, but they’re true. “It means I’m falling for you, Milana.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“You’re not a mission anymore.” I hold her gaze, refusing to look away. “You haven’t been for a long time.”
She stares at me, eyes wide, like she can’t believe what I just said. And honestly, I can barely believe it myself.
But it’s the truth. And now there’s no taking it back.
She stares at me for a long moment, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“You shouldn’t lie to me,” she says, voice cracking. “Stop lying to me, Ilya. Or Kirill. Or whoever you are. You’ve lied to me enough.”
“I’m not lying.”
She scoffs.
“You expect me to believe that? After everything? After pretending to be someone else? After living with me day after day and looking me in the eye while you lied?”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to tell me you’ve suddenly developed feelings for me.”
“I know how it sounds. But it's the truth.”
I say, leaning forward, desperate for her to believe me. “I have no reason to lie to you anymore. It’s the truth.”
She doesn’t answer.
“Everything’s out, Milana. You know who I am. You know what I was hired to do. If I wanted to manipulate you, I’d keep lying.” I hold her gaze. “I’m done lying.”
The silence stretches between us.
“I’ve never…” I stop, searching for words I’ve never had to use before. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
The confession feels foreign. Like I’m speaking someone else’s language.
“This is all new to me. “I’ve never…” I stop, searching for words I’ve never had to use before.
My eyes find hers again. “All I know is that somewhere between your terrible jokes, the way you never stop talking, the way you argue with me over everything…” A faint smile tugs at my mouth despite myself.
“Somewhere between all of that…” I shake my head. “…you got under my skin.”
She watches me in silence.
“I’ve spent my entire life keeping people at a distance.” I swallow. “Then you came along and made me want the exact opposite.”
She looks away, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Was that why you kissed me earlier?”
“Yes.” I swallow hard. “I’ve never understood kissing.
” I shrug weakly. “It always felt… too personal.” I laugh once.
I look down at my feet. “I’ve never wanted it with anyone.
But with you…” I meet her eyes again. “I want everything. I want to taste your lips. I want to know every part of you. It makes no fucking sense, but that’s what you do to me.
” I take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for lying to you.
I’m sorry for every second you spent believing I was someone else. ”
I force myself to hold her gaze. “But I would never hurt you. I’m the last person on earth who would ever hurt you. I’d protect you with my life if I had to. You don’t have to be scared of me.”
She looks at me then, eyes full of pain and confusion, and the tears start falling faster. It breaks my heart to see her like this.
I stand up slowly, approaching her like I would a scared animal. Careful, no sudden movements. When I sit beside her and she doesn’t flinch away, I gently pull her into my arms.
She doesn’t fight me. I lift her gently onto my lap, wrapping her up completely, one hand stroking her back, the other cradling the back of her head.
For the first time since this nightmare began, she isn’t looking at me like I’m a stranger.