Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
And yet, she had missed out on an incredible man.
A man I had taken for myself.
“Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours,” he demanded.
I exhaled shakily. “I always thought I was better than Veronika. That I held some moral high ground because I never made the choices she did. But I was wrong.”
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. “Because I just slept with her husband.”
Kostya moved toward me, and I recoiled before I could stop myself. He froze. A flicker of something dangerous flashed in his expression—anger, hurt.
It terrified me.
And yet, I still wanted him.
I stood and walked over to the window, pulling the robe tighter around me and staring out at the city spread beneath us. In the distance, Central Park burned in autumn’s colors, the people below going about their usual lives. I envied them, the ones who could hold hands without consequence, who could love without the weight of sin pressing down on their chests.
“You know that’s not the relationship Veronika and I had,” he said, his voice a shade softer.
He was closer now. Close enough I could feel his heat, but he didn’t touch me.
I was grateful for that.
And I ached for it.
“She never loved me, Marina.”
I closed my eyes, forcing down the tears. “But you were married.”
“So what?” he bit out. “It was never real. And she’s—”
He cut himself off before saying it. Dead. She was dead. Murdered.
I shook my head. It didn’t matter. It didn’t erase the truth.
He exhaled sharply. “Marina.” This time, my name was a plea.
I should have walked away. I should have turned my back on him, on this, on us, before I destroyed what little of myself I had left.
Instead, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He studied me for a long moment then, without warning, scooped me up into his arms.
I gasped, my body tensing, but he didn’t speak.
He carried me to the bedroom and laid me down, tucking the blankets around me with a care that sent fresh guilt tearing through my ribs.
His fingers brushed over my forehead, a barely there touch.
“This isn’t over,” he murmured.
And then he left, shutting the door behind him.
I lay in the dark, my body aching for something I could never have, and tried not to think about the way his touch still lingered on my skin.
CHAPTER 27
KOSTYA
Isat in the armchair by the window, watching Marina sleep peacefully.
There was so much I needed to do—calls to make, arrangements to finalize—but I couldn’t bring myself to do any of it.
Because all of it would’ve required leaving her side.
And that wasn’t happening.
The Ritz-Carlton was under Gregor’s protection. It should be safe from Solovyov and his men. But I couldn’t take that risk. If I wasn’t watching her, how could I be sure she was safe?
Not to mention, my little rabbit had a habit of running.
I had hoped we were past that. But then she said it, she thought she’d be free after this.
Free from Russia. Free from the mafia. Free from me.
She wanted to run from it all, and I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t take the first chance she got.
She understood I wanted to protect her. She knew I would never harm her. But after tonight, after the way she looked at me, wide-eyed and stricken, I wasn’t so sure she still believed that.
There was no universe in which I would ever hurt her. But I also had no intention of letting her go.
Her place was here, with me.
How could I make her see that? How did I convince her to stay?
When she admitted to feeling guilty for sleeping with me, I had seen the exact moment the realization struck her.
Her eyes went wide in horror, her face drained of color. The fork she’d been gripping so tightly that her knuckles had turned white slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a dull clatter.
She didn’t even notice.
She was too consumed by the storm inside her. Guilt twisting her features, grief darkening her beautiful eyes.
How did I convince her that wanting me wasn’t a betrayal of her sister?
It couldn’t be a sin.
Marriage was till death did you part, and death had parted us.
A heavy weight settled in my chest as I shifted in the chair next to the bed.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to be like this. Lost.
I was the man with the answers. The one people turned to when they had nowhere else to go. The one who found solutions when none existed.
So how the fuck was I the one without a solution now?
Rationality was my strength. Cold, calculated precision. But there was nothing rational about this woman.
She was impulsive, emotional, reckless.
And I loved that I never knew what she’d do next.
A dull ache throbbed behind my eyes, my stomach twisting into knots. I told myself it was the rich food. It had to be. It couldn’t be her.