Chapter 7
SAMUIL
Iget the call in the middle of a meeting.
Davyd and I are going over ledgers with our accounting manager, trying to determine whether our last few shipments have been coming in a little light.
I’m sure Lebedev’s men have been stealing from me; I just can’t prove it yet.
But when Vlad calls me to tell me there’s a problem with the woman I now know is named Molly, I tell them I need to reschedule the meeting.
Davyd watches me curiously, but I just dismiss him.
“Talk,” I command.
His voice is low and clipped, trained to give information as quickly as possible.
“Your girl was approached by a shady-looking character outside her school.”
My blood runs hot and electric in my veins.
“Who was it?” I ask, seething.
“His description matches the one you gave me of her attacker. He waited by her car for over an hour and was clearly threatening her. The good news is, he walked away without touching her, but she looked pretty shaken when he finally left.”
A sharp and ugly anger tears through my chest.
“Any idea what he said?”
“We couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying without revealing ourselves, but she sat in the car for almost ten minutes before driving off.”
I grip the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles whiten. I stare at the grain of the wood but see nothing except the image of her in that parking lot, frozen, scared, and cornered by a man who should have been dead the night he laid hands on her.
I should have finished the job. This is completely my fault. I should never have left him breathing. I should have followed protocol. But I broke every rule that night. I walked away to carry her through the rain. Now she’s paying the price for my distraction.
“Where is she now?” I ask.
“Home,” he confirms. “She locked the door behind her and drew the curtains. She hasn’t left since she got inside.”
Good. That means she’s frightened enough to be cautious. But fear won’t save her. Fear won’t stop a man who already crossed the line of violence and lived to stalk her again.
“Keep the car on her street. I want eyes on every entrance.”
“Understood.”
I end the call and turn slowly to find Davyd back in the room, eyeing me suspiciously.
“What happened?” he asks.
I sigh warily, knowing that I’m going to have to tell him eventually.
I’ve kept the details of that night closely guarded.
He was already so distracted handling Lebedev that I didn’t want to bother him with this, too.
He’s a dog with a bone, though, and he won’t take kindly to being lied to.
So I tell him the truth, sparing some details.
“Leaving him alive isn’t like you,” he says after hearing the sordid details. “Although saving some damsel in distress isn’t like you, either.”
I groan because he’s right.
“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” I say. “I did do both of those things, and now he’s threatening her.”
Davyd swears under his breath, low and vicious.
“You want me to send some guys after him?” he offers, ever the faithful soldier.
“We don’t know enough about him,” I answer, anger sharpening every word. “I’m such a fucking idiot. I should have done more recon on him.”
“Don’t blame yourself for what you didn’t do,” Davyd says patiently. “Let’s focus on what you’re going to do next. You’ve got a tail on the girl. Add in a protection detail.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s not enough,” I say, distracted almost to madness by the idea of her caught in this man’s crossfire.
He tilts his head. “Then what do you want to do?”
I inhale once, slowly and deliberately. “I want her brought to my apartment.”
His eyebrows lift in surprise. “You think she’ll come willingly?”
“I don’t give a damn if she comes willingly. She’s in danger. I will not let this play out with her alone in that apartment, waiting for him to strike again.”
Davyd studies me for a moment, then nods. “I’ll send the car.”
He’s about to rise when I add, “And make sure she’s handled gently.”
He freezes, then smiles faintly. “Of course.”
I move to the window, staring down at the city.
Somewhere out there, she sits in darkness, trembling because a man I should have killed just breathed the same air as her again.
The idea claws at me. It undermines everything I am.
I have spent decades ensuring the people I care about live untouched.
I’ve never allowed weakness. No soft spots. No vulnerabilities.
Until her.
A woman I spent one night with. A woman whose name I didn’t even know until three days after she disappeared from my bed. A woman who should have meant nothing to me.
Still, she got under my skin, and now she’s mine to protect. I head for my apartment, hoping to meet her there.
It takes twenty minutes for my phone to buzz again.
She’s here.
Keep her entertained. I’ll be there in 5.
When I enter my apartment, she stands between my men, untouched, unrestrained, but clearly brought here against her will. Her eyes blaze with anger even through the fear. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold. Her jaw is tight. And when her eyes land on me, they narrow.
Her voice is sharp enough to slice steel. “What the hell is this?”
I stop a few feet from her. “This is for your safety,” I tell her sharply.
“And you couldn’t have just called me?” she accuses. “Who the hell even are you?”
The men beside her tense, not used to hearing me spoken to like that. I ignore them.
“Are you finished?” I ask quietly.
“No,” she says with an incredulous laugh. “Not even close! I was just lounging in my apartment when some strange man told me he’s your friend and basically kidnapped me. Who does that? Are you insane?”
Despite myself, something almost like amusement shakes loose in my chest.
“Apparently.” I smirk. “But your attacker came back, and I felt I needed to step in.”
Her jaw goes slack at that.
“How…” she trails off thoughtfully. “How did you even know that?”
Her expression falters for the first time. Fear flickers. But then she straightens her spine again.
I snap my fingers to dismiss my men, and they quickly make themselves scarce. This isn’t a conversation I want an audience for.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you,” I finally tell her, softening the blow as much as I can.
“What does that mean?” she asks, crossing her arms.
“I have a security detail,” I answer honestly. “I’ve asked them to trail you.”
That really upsets her. Her face turns a shade of red so deep it’s almost purple, and her voice goes shrill.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she screams. “You had no right to do that! For how long?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her sharply, shutting down all arguments. “You’re out of harm’s way now, and that’s what counts.”
“No, that isn’t what matters,” she screeches. “This is a total invasion of my privacy. You could have just called me and asked me out like a normal person. I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No,” I say. “But you need it.”
She opens her mouth to retort, but I lift a hand and step closer.
“Don’t bother denying it. I know you were threatened. I know he waited for you. I know he approached you in broad daylight. And I know he will try again.”
She swallows hard. Her hands curl into fists at her sides.
“You were spying on me,” she says again, venom in her tone.
“I was watching your back,” I correct. “A distinction you should appreciate, considering you’re still breathing.”
Her eyes shine with a mix of anger and something else. Something like helplessness she doesn’t want me to see.
“What happens now?” she asks through clenched teeth. “Are you going to make me some kind of prisoner?”
“You aren’t a prisoner,” I tell her. “But I’m having your things brought over. I’d like you to stay here until the threat is neutralized.”
“I’m not moving in with you,” she says abruptly. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s not a question,” I say evenly.
Her jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, turning away before spinning right back, because apparently she is incapable of ending an argument where it should end. “I’m not letting you lock me up in your tower like I’m Rapunzel.”
“If Rapunzel were being hunted, the tower would have been a wise choice.”
“That’s certainly one way to look at the story,” she fumes. “But I bet Rapunzel would have liked to be asked.”
“Well, her life wasn’t in imminent danger.” I shrug. “I’ve seen enough situations like this to know that it usually ends badly. I’m not arguing about this.”
She glares like she wants to claw my eyes out. “You don’t get to control me.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her hands shake slightly. She wraps her arms around herself, defensive, hurting, furious.
“Please don’t do this,” she whispers.
Her voice cracks again on the words, and something in me twists painfully. I know what that crack means. I’ve heard it in other people’s voices. People who endured things they never speak of. People who grew up in cages, even if they had no bars.
I lower my voice. “I’m just trying to protect you.”
She looks away, blinking rapidly. “It feels an awful lot like being trapped.”
The words hit harder than I expect.
I step aside, gesturing for her to follow me down the hallway. To my surprise, she does. We walk for a moment before stopping in front of her room.
“This is the guestroom,” I tell her. “The door locks from the inside. You’re free to go anywhere in the apartment, but I don’t want you leaving.”
She scowls. “So it is a tower.”
“A well-furnished one.”
“That’s not funny.”
I stay silent because I’ve already pushed her too far. She storms into the guestroom without looking back at me. The door slams shut.
For a moment I stand there, staring at the wood, listening to my own heartbeat.
Then I hear the quiet sobs.
I wait a moment, then knock once. “Molly.”
“Go away.”
This woman is the only person alive who would dare tell the Wolf to leave her alone. And she’s the only person alive I would actually listen to. I walk down the hall, giving her distance she probably doesn’t expect. I’m halfway to the stairs when I hear her door open behind me.
“Wait.”
I stop.
She stands there, arms wrapped around her stomach, eyes wet, cheeks flushed. She looks angry and lost and grateful all at once.
“I know you’re trying to help me,” she says. “I know I stumbled into something dangerous and you’re just trying to keep me from getting hurt. Or worse.”
I nod once.
“It doesn’t mean I’m not furious about how you did it,” she adds. “But I understand.”
“Good.”
She hesitates, then looks at the carpet. “Thank you. For offering your protection.”
The words come out grudgingly, but they come, and something warm settles low in my chest.
She lifts her head. “I have a job to do. An important one. When can I go back?”
“There’s no way of knowing,” I tell her honestly.
She stiffens. “What does that mean?”
“It means this won’t be solved overnight.”
“So… a week?”
“Probably not,” I admit.
“A month?”
“Maybe.”
She stares at me, panic swelling behind her eyes.
“I can’t miss the rest of the school year. I can’t. I have responsibilities. I have kids who need me. I have bills. I can’t just disappear.”
“You can if the alternative is being killed.”
Her breath catches sharply. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
She shakes her head rapidly, backing away as if the words physically hit her.
“You can’t do this to me!” she screams again. “You can’t rip my life apart because you think you know better.”
“I don’t think,” I say quietly. “I know.”