Mikhail curses under his breath and picks me up. He cradles me in his arms, and I want to hate it. I want to hate him. It would make things a lot easier.
“Where are you taking me now?” I ask. “A cell?”
“I’m taking you to our room.” He carries me through the door. Just like he said, he walks down the hall towards his room. Our room. “I shouldn’t have locked you in there in the first place.”
His arms tighten around me and I commit every detail of it to memory. The solid wall of his chest. The way his arms flex around my body, effortlessly strong. The way his warm breath whispers against my cheek.
I don’t know how long any of this will be mine, and I don’t want to forget it. Because if Mikhail can’t give the Bratva up, I really will leave. I have to.
No matter how much I want to stay.
T
