Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
He’s lying again. The story was special to him. Special enough that he’s subjected himself to hours upon hours of needle torture to carry it on his skin.
“What did the dragons do?” I ask softly. “Were they heroes or villains in the story?”
“Villains, of course.” His dark eyes glint as he turns his head to look at me. “Aren’t they always? Their job was to die. The prince needed to slay them in order to win the princess’s hand in marriage and her heart.”
“Ah. And were they hard to slay?”
“Very.” His mouth twists. “It took him many years, but he finally succeeded.”
I sit up, holding a corner of the blanket against my chest to keep myself warm. “Did he?”
The glint in his eyes intensifies. “You tell me.”
We’re not talking about a fairy tale anymore. Maybe we never were.
My first instinct is to avert my gaze, to pretend I don’t understand the question. And before today, that’s what I might’ve done. But things are different now. I can no longer see him as the demon who’s haunted my life for so long.
He’s all too human, his pain and grief all too real. All too familiar to me.
Despite what I’ve told myself over the years, Alexei Leonov is not a cruel monster. Or at least that’s not all he is.
“I…” I inhale deeply, holding his gaze. “Yes. I think he did.”
Something moves in his eyes, a peculiar tension tightening his jaw. “Is that right?”
I nod, fighting the urge to look away, to deny the truth. That’s what I’ve done for years. Maybe even for the full decade-plus that we’ve known each other. I’ve told myself he’s too much like my father, too much like his father. Over and over, I’ve reminded myself that he’s ruthless and dangerous, manipulative and obsessive, a lethally possessive killer with no conscience—and he is all of those things. But he’s also loyal, and caring, and… mine.
The word comes out of nowhere, but as it settles into my mind, I feel the truth of it, the sheer inevitability.
He’s mine.
My monster.
My demon.
My ruthless stalker.
When I thought he no longer wanted me, it was like being diagnosed with cancer all over again.
So instead of hiding from it, I take a deep breath and say what I haven’t dared to admit even to myself.
“I love you, Alexei. I think a part of me has always loved you… even when I thought I hated you. It just took me time to realize it.”
And tightening my grip on the blanket, I wait for his response.
Chapter 23
Alexei
I sit up, my heart slamming painfully against my ribs as I stare at my wife.
Did I just hear that right?
“You love me.” My voice comes out flat. Emotionless. As though there isn’t a volcanic storm raging inside me, battering my chest with all kinds of contradictory feelings… like violent joy and bitter disbelief.
If she’d told me this yesterday or any other day, I would’ve been over the fucking moon. This is what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve been convinced would eventually happen. But a kernel of doubt was planted on our walk, and even though no attack took place as we hurried home, I still can’t help but wonder if everything that’s occurred between us since we came back to the penthouse has been part of her plan to get me to lower my guard… including this confession.
Her throat ripples as her fingers tighten on the blanket she’s holding up. “Yes. I do.”
Fuck. This is tearing me apart. All I want is to embrace her and tell her how much I love her, how I absolutely adore her and always fucking have, but the suspicion that she’s playing me is like a poisonous seed stuck in my throat. I’ve already shared too much in the warm afterglow of sex, and what comes to my mind now is how she’d willingly embraced me at the clinic before her treatment, only to slip away right after we’d had sex. How she sought me out at her friend’s fundraiser a few weeks after Ksenia’s death, allegedly to offer me her sympathy… only to run and hide in Nikolai’s Idaho compound immediately afterward.
Is that what’s happening here?
Is she giving me something she knows I badly want in order to up her chances of a successful escape?
Did her fucking brothers put her up to this?
No. I refuse to believe it. I’ve always been able to read her; unlike Valery, deception isn’t her strong suit. And yet… I can’t bring myself to speak, to return the words I know she’s waiting to hear.
Instead, I do the only thing I can.
I reach for the blanket she’s holding and pull it away, baring her exquisite breasts. Then I give in to the ever-present hunger raging inside me, the desperate need no amount of sex will ever sate.