Chapter 6 - Mila
Even if I should be grateful for the chance to catch my breath, nothing in me has settled yet.
All of my emotions keep slamming into each other, folding from one to the next. Anger shifts to fear, fear into grief, then grief snaps right back to fury again.
I trusted Ivan, even if I should’ve been more vigilant.
It wasn’t that I assumed I could mindlessly put my faith in someone I didn’t know, but the way he jumped in to help me without prompting suggested there was something decent in him. He saw me running, and he stepped in when he didn’t have any obligation to.
But now I know that’s not the case. He has every opportunity to let me go, and yet, he’s adamant about keeping me here.
Now, I’m somehow useful. Leverage, I guess.
That thought is enough to make my stomach turn, but I don’t let him see it.
I ran from my brothers because they didn’t see me as anything more than a viable option. Something to get them out of whatever problem they have with Ivan’s family. In exchange, they wanted gratitude from me.
In that moment, fear felt less suffocating than that prospect. Now, I’m stuck here with him, caught between different walls with the same lack of control.
Pulling in a breath, I straighten my spine and muster as much courage as I can. “Ivan, I want to leave. Now.”
He looks down at me almost blankly. “No.”
The finality of that single word almost pulls the wind from my sails, but my anger doesn’t let it slide. “You don’t get to control me.”
“If you’ve been listening, then you’d know this isn’t about control,” Ivan returns, head tilting just enough to seem condescending. “I said you were safe, and I meant it. I never said I’d let you walk into danger just because you refuse to take a break.”
“That’s still not your call,” I snap back, feeling more and more restless as this continues. “I never agreed to be here.”
“Technically, yes, you did, but I don’t know why we need to split hairs here,” he says, more pointedly than before. “You know that your brothers want to use you and don’t give a damn about you, yet you’d rather risk going out there and being found than staying where I can keep you safe?”
My voice rises despite not meaning to as the frustration starts spilling over. “I didn’t run from my brothers just to be trapped by someone else. That’s the point.”
Ivan’s gaze sharpens, and something darker moves through his eyes. “Lower your voice.”
“No,” I return, voice so close to trembling. “I’m sick of being pushed around and managed. I’m not a deal waiting to happen. I’m not a prize, I’m not…”
As the words leave me, the weight of reality only grows heavier, and each second I bear it only makes my heart clench further. My pulse falters as a result, and another wave of panic washes over me.
I’ve never wanted this. So far, I’ve stomached everything in my life while asking very few questions. I’ve accepted far too much that was never normal to begin with, and I can’t keep doing it to myself.
I can’t.
Before I can back out, I turn and bolt.
I push away from the floor hard and go straight for the door while everything in me tightens up.
If I can slip away and leave the building, maybe then I’ll get a solid chance at this. Maybe then I’ll be able to live my life as I want, without leaving every decision up to the people around me. Maybe then, I’ll know what it means to choose.
But I barely make it across the room before his hand latches around my wrist, tugging me back just enough to stop my momentum.
It isn’t violent, but it’s firm and unforgiving as he pulls me closer until my back hits his chest. The suddenness of his proximity knocks the breath from my lungs.
“Let go of me!” I shout, twisting and panicking, even if it only makes the situation worse.
“I don’t care how angry you might be with me, and I don’t care if you think you can wing it out there on your own,” Ivan utters, far too close to my ear. “You’re not leaving like this.”
“Get off me!”
Regardless of my struggle, it’s useless against him. He’s bigger and stronger in a way that doesn’t leave any room for me to assume otherwise.
In a smooth, sure movement, Ivan lifts me like I weigh nothing at all.
The feeling of my feet leaving the floor catches me so off guard that my protests trail off into breathless nothingness as he carries me down the hall.
“Ivan, please—”
Ignoring me, he pushes a door open and passes through before setting me down on the edge of the bed, repositioning me into a sitting position. He’s more controlled and intentional than rough, but the action alone makes my stomach twist.
He meets my gaze, close enough that his cologne surrounds me, keeping my hands pinned to the mattress before slowly letting go and showing me a placating palm.
“Stay.”
Chest starting to heave, I mutter, “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he says, expression far too focused on me. “You hate that you misjudged me, and now I’m not letting you have your way.”
The accurate assessment stings, and I grit my teeth. “You don’t know me.”
He huffs to himself. “You might be surprised by how well I pay attention.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting?”
“No, but you’ll get used to it, just like you do with everything else.”
My brows pinch together at that, not knowing exactly what he means. But before I can question it, he leans forward, bracing a hand on either side of me, careful not to touch me directly.
I pull in a breath, suddenly aware of just how close he really is. How invasive it should feel, despite how I don’t push him away.
“Convince yourself that you hate me if you must, and picture all the ways you’d like to run if it makes you feel better, but I’m not changing my mind,” Ivan utters, low and rough. “And you’re not running back into the mess you came from. I won’t let you.”
Blinking back in him, I can’t shake how…familiarly he looks at me, or how he talks like he knows me. It’s unsettling, and none of it makes sense.
But maybe that’s just how he is. So confident that he’s more convincing than he has any right to be.
Still, the certainty that comes with his claim is enough to rock me all over again, reminding me of just how stuck I am. How no matter how hard I might try to fight him, I’ll never be strong enough. I’ll never outrun him.
I’m just as trapped, and just as out of control.
My chest tightens, and as hard as I try to breathe deeply, I can’t while panic surges in, disorienting me on the spot. Pressing a hand to my sternum, I try to slow my heart down and to calm myself before it gets out of control, but my body refuses.
I barely register that I’m shaking my head over and over, as if that might accomplish something.
“No…this can’t be happening…”
As my breath turns sharp and so shallow that they almost hurt, I can only sit there and curl inward. For a long, horrible moment, I assume he’s prepared to ignore it and let me sort it out myself.
Instead, Ivan drops into a crouch in front of me, and his hand sends a rush of warmth through my knee where it rests.
“Mila,” he says, steady and firm, yet not unkindly. “Look at me.”
Something instinctive in me wants to listen, but I can’t. Not while everything blurs.
“You’re not in danger right now. You’re safe…just focus on me.”
“I can’t breathe. I can’t do this,” I manage to get out, too caught up in the sound of blood roaring in my ears.
“You can,” he insists, far too sure of that. “Breathe with me. Start slow.”
Ivan inhales deeply and exaggerates enough for me to follow, and his hand moves to my chest, just beneath my collarbone. “Keep going.”
As much as something in me doesn’t want to listen, I do.
I suck in air, feeling the flutter of my heart through it, along with my chest expanding slightly beneath his palm. All the while, his eyes stay firmly on mine.
“Hold it,” he murmurs, watching my every movement. “Now out.”
The breath leaves me in a shaky rush, and as difficult as it is to regulate, I do it again, following his footsteps.
Ivan continues guiding me, keeping his tone calm and understanding even as the constricting feeling around my lungs slowly starts to ease away.
Eventually, the room settles into place again, and my vision steadies along with my every breath.
By the time I relax more on the bed, feeling exhausted, humiliated, and still vaguely furious, Ivan pulls his hand back.
“Better?”
Reluctantly, I nod once.
Seeming satisfied, he puts a bit more space between us, though he stays at eye level with me. “I’m not going to hurt you. You need to understand that.”
“Maybe that’s true,” I mutter, tone still slightly bitter. “But you’re still another man deciding what happens to me.”
“It isn’t about control,” he repeats, annoyingly insistent. “This is about keeping you from being traded into something neither of us wants.”
Something about it feels more loaded than it should, but I don’t let myself read into it too much. Not when I already know what this means to him.
“So that’s it…I’m just part of some business that needs to be handled.”
Something crosses his features, but Ivan doesn’t flinch. “No. You’re not.”
Maybe that should soothe me, but it doesn’t. Not when the reality of this is far too loud to ignore.
As silence fills the room, settling between us, Ivan takes a long breath of his own before he stands fully and gives me a long look. “I’ll be out there if you need anything.”
When I don’t say anything in return, he heads over to the door and leaves the room, closing it behind him with a quiet click.
I stare at it long after he’s gone, unable to pull my eyes away. I know I could test it and push a little more. That I should do everything in my power to get myself out of this situation, but I don’t.
Instead, I stay where I am on the bed and focus on the way my body still buzzes with leftover adrenaline, even if my body is screaming for a break.
The way he read my panic and got through to me burrows deep in my mind, yet I can’t focus on that right now. Not when I just want to be alone, and when I need to search for whatever clarity I can find.
But even while he’s gone, I can hear his calm voice. I can feel the warmth in his touch and the way it brought me back down again.
I can’t escape him even when he’s in the other room. Not in the ways that count.