Chapter 3

Riley

The man standing in front of me was a terrifying beast, but there was something about him that seemed to draw me in anyway. Whatever it was, it made me want to trust him, to lean into the danger rather than run from it. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, not just as a problem to be solved, but as an actual person. Or maybe it was the way my name sounded on his lips.

I couldn't be certain, but a part of me didn't care.

As I stood before him, I couldn't help but feel the gravitational pull emanating from him. It was as if he exuded a silent promise of protection and peril all at once. Yet, as our eyes met and held one another's, a shiver of excitement ran through me, the kind that you feel when you're on the edge of a cliff, both fearing and anticipating the inevitable fall.

I knew men like him were dangerous, but I was always drawn to danger like a moth to flame.

It was something about myself that I wasn't particularly proud of, but I'd made it this far, so I figured I was doing something right.

I'd survive him, whatever this was.

I swallowed hard as I gazed into Maxim's stormy steel blue eyes, sparkling with cold calculation and yet somehow, they still glinted with a fiery passion that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface.

He towered over me. Standing well over six feet tall, he had the broad shoulders and lean, muscular build of someone accustomed to being in charge. His dark hair was just long enough to run my fingers through, and that did nothing to diminish the sharp angles of his strikingly handsome face.

His nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken in the past and not set quite right. It just made him that much more attractive.

When I looked closer, I noticed a faint scar that ran down his left cheek, possibly from a past altercation that ended in bloodshed just like the one that had happened right in front of me just a few seconds ago.

I'd never seen a man die before, but Gregor had dug his own grave and who was I to grieve him burying himself in it all on his own.

He didn't mean anything to me, and this Maxim wouldn't either.

I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders back. No matter how drawn to this man I was, I wasn't going to go anywhere with him. There was something about him that told me that I couldn't get away with what I wanted with him, and that was distinctly different than Gregor.

Gregor was a giant Neanderthal with a pea-sized brain.

I could tell that Maxim was not.

But at the end of the day, he was still a man, and men were simple creatures. Maxim might not be as easy of a mark as Gregor had been, but he was a man, and he had a cock just like they all had.

I just had to figure out how to lead him around by it, at least until I could make my escape.

He took a deliberate step toward me, his movements fluid and confident.

I instinctively stepped back, my heels hitting the cool wall behind me. The sudden barrier felt both comforting and confining in the same breath. My heart pounded in my chest, not just from fear, but also from the tumultuous mix of emotions that this man seemed to stir within me simply by meeting my gaze.

"Riley," Maxim began again, his voice softer now, but still laced with an iron resolve, "you're coming with me."

I squared my jaw, meeting his intense gaze with one of my own. "I'm not going anywhere with you," I asserted, my voice steady despite the raw adrenaline coursing through me.

Maxim sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. He took another step closer, effectively trapping me against the wall. His presence was overwhelming, enveloping, yet somehow still far too enticing.

I didn't like how it made me feel, out of control and out of my element.

I wasn't used to feeling like this and I tried to steel myself against it.

His hand reached up, fingers gently but firmly lifting my chin, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. The contact was electric, sparking a cascade of conflicting sensations within me and I sucked in a shaky breath as I tried to identify each one.

Anger.

Defiance.

Desire…

"Listen to me," he said, his voice deep and utterly compelling. "I'm going to protect you, whether you like it or not, because that's what needs to be done. You saw things today that you weren't meant to see and that means that you need to come with me. I will not allow you to risk your life."

"Fuck your protection," I snarled as courageously as I could, but he looked as if he could see right through my false bravado.

His thumb brushed lightly against my jaw, a touch that was surprisingly tender given the firmness of his grip. "I'm not your enemy, Riley."

The intensity of his gaze, the firm set of his mouth, and the unwavering determination in his eyes made it clear this wasn't just a proposal for me to agree or disagree with; it was a vow that he intended to keep at all costs.

Too bad I wasn't going to make the same vow.

I'd make a different one.

I'd go with him, for now, but I wouldn't stay with him, at least not for long. At the earliest opportunity, I'd escape. Once I was free, I'd head south. Now that I was in America, the world was my oyster. I could go wherever the fuck I wanted, and once I got away, Maxim Morozov would be nothing more than a bad memory in my rearview mirror.

Completely trapped by his formidable presence, there wasn't much for me to do, at least for now. I knew when to play my cards and when to fold them and this was most certainly a situation that called for the latter.

I took a deep steadying breath.

"Fine," I spat, rolling my upper lip a bit with my frustration.

His thumb traced up and down the line of my jaw, sending fiery tendrils of something I didn't care to identify through me. For a moment, he looked at me with a flicker of interest, just enough for me to get my hopes up at the sight of it, but then it was gone in a flash.

Almost so quickly that I thought maybe I had imagined it.

"Where are you going to take me?" I whispered.

"You're coming home with me. Tonight, you'll be a guest in my home," he replied, and I searched his eyes for any measure of implication, but I saw nothing.

If I was going to get to him, I was going to have to step up my game.

Almost reluctantly, he released my chin. Gently, but still just as firmly, he took a hold of my arm. It wasn't harsh, but it was enough to know that he meant business. He pulled me away from the wall and guided me toward the door.

I tugged subtly at his hold and his fingers tightened just enough to send a message. I wasn't going anywhere. Reluctantly, I ceased my struggle, allowing him to guide me outside into the brisk night air.

The street was fairly dark, the few lampposts casting long shadows on the pavement. Parked at the curb was a sleek black Range Rover, its windows tinted so dark that I couldn't see inside. Maxim paused by the passenger door, releasing my arm to open it.

"Please." He gestured toward the open door with a polite nod, his demeanor shifting subtly from the dominant force I was now familiar with to something slightly more accommodating.

I didn't know what to make of it.

His big frame boxed me in. My gaze flicked from side to side, looking for a way out, but finding no avenue of escape.

With a soft sigh, I gave in and slipped into the car seat, the leather cool and smooth beneath me.

Maxim closed the door with a soft thud before walking around to the driver's side and sliding in beside me. He turned the key in the ignition and the gentle rumble of the engine filled the tense silence between us.

"Put on your seatbelt," he directed, his voice stern.

I didn't argue. I just did as I was told.

"Good girl," he murmured, and my heart nearly leapt up into my throat at his praise. In an instant, my palms felt clammy, and a feverish flush broke out at the edges of my brow.

I stared straight ahead, too afraid to look at him should he notice just how much of an effect his words had on me. If he noticed, he didn't say anything, which was almost enough to make me sigh with relief.

"I already know your first name is Riley. What's your last name?" he asked gently, and I hated how my heart wanted to open to him. I licked my lips and swallowed hard.

I didn't want him to know my true identity. Once I made my escape, I could disappear without a trace. He wouldn't be able to find me if he had a fake name.

So I lied.

It's not like it mattered.

"O'Brien."

"Nice to meet you, Riley O'Brien," he said, his voice far too gentle and warm for my liking. It called to something deep in me that I didn't care to look that far into right now… or maybe really ever.

Whatever.

As we pulled away from the curb, the engine's purr barely audible, I turned to him, my voice steady despite the chaos of everything going on in my head.

"What are you going to do with me?" I asked softly. For some inexplicable reason, I didn't think he was going to kill me. Even though he exuded danger, none of it was directed at me and that was strangely comforting.

"I told you. I'm going to protect you. I don't know how you got involved with Gregor Orlov, but his death will have consequences and I don't want to see a pretty girl like you caught up in them," he explained gently.

He glanced at me briefly, his hands firm on the steering wheel, the city lights casting shifting patterns across his face. In the soft lighting, he looked even more handsome than before.

I glanced down at his lips before I could stop myself and my stomach dropped once that I realized that he'd noticed. I jerked my gaze away and looked out the window, swallowing hard.

What was it about this man that kept pulling me in?

With a quick shake of my head, I did my best to push whatever this feeling was far away. Instead of focusing on him, I looked out at the dark buildings along the side of the road. It was then that I realized something else.

Maxim hadn't locked the passenger side door.

If I waited for the opportune moment, I could jump out of the car, run into the alleys, and disappear into the shadows never to be found again.

Maxim wouldn't know what hit him.

A slight smile edged at the corners of my lips, and I quickly covered it up with a pretend cough into the palm of my hand.

As the car moved through the increasingly busy streets of Boston, I pressed my face slightly closer to the cold window, my eyes scanning the outside world.

The blurred faces of people walking by, the neon glow of flickering street signs, and the fleeting shadows in the alleys between buildings all painted a picture of a city alive and teeming with an endless amount of possible escape routes.

When I glanced to the side, I saw that Maxim's focus remained on the road, his profile stoic and seemingly unperturbed by the tension that crackled like static between us in the confined space of the car.

As we approached a bustling intersection, the traffic light flipped to red, and the car came to a complete stop. The streets were crowded with people, a group of late-night partiers maybe, their laughter and chatter piercing the silence between us.

This was the moment I had been waiting for.

Without a second thought, I unlatched my seatbelt, my movements quick but discreet. As soon as Maxim's eyes flicked to the red light, I pushed the door open and threw myself into the crowd. The cool night air hit me like a splash of icy cold water as I melded into the sea of bodies, my heart pounding furiously in my chest.

"Riley!" Maxim called out from behind me, his voice laced with both surprise and anger and something else that I decidedly didn't like the sound of.

I didn't look back. I wasn't dumb. I knew what happened in horror movies. When the female lead looked back, she always inevitably tripped and that wasn't going to be me. Instead, I ducked into a nearby alley, my footsteps loud as I sprinted along the pavement.

Adrenaline surged through me as I darted through the maze of alleys, my footsteps echoing off the grimy walls. I pushed my body to its limits, desperate to evade the persistent sound of Maxim's footsteps behind me. His pursuit was relentless, the heavy thuds of his boots a constant reminder that the distance between us was far too close for comfort.

Turning sharply into another alley, I skidded on a slick patch of wet pavement, barely catching myself before I fell. The brief slip cost me precious seconds, and I could hear Maxim's footsteps growing louder, and disturbingly more determined behind me. Panic gripped me, tightening my chest with each rapid breath.

I couldn't let him catch me.

I sprinted ahead, spotting a small, open courtyard surrounded by high brick walls adorned with creeping ivy. Without even a second's hesitation, I crossed the courtyard and burst through the open door of a quaint, dimly lit restaurant.

The warm, inviting smell of cooking food hit me as I entered. The restaurant was cozy, with tables packed close together and soft music playing in the background. People turned to stare as I hurried past, my breaths emerging from my throat in loud, heaving gasps.

I wove between tables, hoping the crowded room would conceal me. Behind me, the door slammed open, causing a new wave of heads to turn. Maxim's formidable silhouette filled the doorway, his chest heaving from the chase. His eyes scanned the room, a predatory glint in them as he searched for any sign of me.

Ducking behind a large decorative plant, I crouched low, my heart pounding in my ears. I watched as Maxim started to move through the restaurant, his gaze sweeping over each table with calculated precision.

Dammit. He was so close.

I held my breath, praying to blend in with the shadows, my mind racing for any solution. The back of the restaurant had to have another exit—a kitchen door, perhaps. If I could just make it there without him noticing…

Maxim paused, his gaze lingering on a spot dangerously close to my hiding place. Our eyes met for the briefest of seconds across the dimly lit room, and a shiver of fear went through me.

Fuck.

I swallowed hard.

When a waiter walked past me carrying a tray of drinks, I seized the opportunity and sprinted into the kitchen. My heart pounded in my chest as I searched for a rear exit and when my eyes finally landed on one, I burst right through it.

Maxim wasn't far behind me.

I hit the alley with my lungs burning, the cold night air harsh against my throat as I sprinted for freedom.

Maxim was alarmingly close behind me. I could hear the steady, determined thuds of his boots against the pavement. He was relentless.

Just as I dared to push even harder, his arms encircled my waist from behind, lifting me off the ground with an ease that left me breathless and disoriented. My feet kicked at the air uselessly as he held me tight against his chest, stopping my flight with infuriating efficiency.

"Let me go!" I shouted, twisting and turning in his grip, trying to land a kick. My heel swiped through the air, missing him by inches. His hold only tightened on me, but that didn't stop me from fighting him.

I wouldn't give up.

"Riley, stop." Maxim's voice was a low rumble in my ear, surprisingly calm amidst the chaos. "You're not going to get away like this."

I struggled against him, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Why are you doing this? I can take care of myself!"

Maxim adjusted his hold, setting me down but keeping his arms around me, ensuring I couldn't bolt again. His blue eyes met mine, intense and searching.

"Because it's not just about you being able to handle yourself. It's about making sure you're safe and you remain that way."

"Safe?" I scoffed, still trying to wriggle free. "Or is this really about controlling where I am and what I know?"

He shook his head, his expression firm. "You've seen enough tonight to know what kind of danger follows people like me. I can't just let you get swept up in what comes next."

"I don't need your protection," I hissed, frustration boiling over as I realized the futility of my attempts to escape.

"You're going to take it whether you like it or not, little girl," he replied, his tone far too stern for my liking.

How dare he speak to me like that?

"I'm not a little girl," I spat back, jerking my body away from him as hard as I could, but his hold on me was too strong. I didn't even budge an inch, which was frustrating to say the least.

"Then stop acting like one," he countered, and I glared at him so fiercely that if looks could kill, mine would have felled him in an instant.

With a decisive motion that brooked no argument, Maxim shifted his grip on me, effortlessly lifting and throwing me over his shoulder. His hard shoulder pressed into my stomach as he strode confidently back in the direction we had come.

"Put me down!" I screeched, my voice muffled against the coarse fabric of his coat.

He didn't slow his pace, nor did he respond. I tried kicking and pummeling my fists against his back, hoping someone would notice, but the streets seemed unusually quiet, the earlier vibrancy now dimmed. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour or the sudden autumnal chill that had descended upon the city.

I didn't know, but I didn't stop trying to somehow get away from him.

Along the way back to the car, we walked by several people, and I caught glimpses of their faces—expressions ranging from startled to deliberately indifferent. None showed any inclination to intervene; a few even stepped hurriedly aside, their eyes avoiding any sort of contact.

It was as if Maxim commanded an unspoken respect—or fear—that isolated us in a bubble of our own.

No one said anything to stop him, and I soon lost hope that anyone would.

As the car came into view, pulled over to the side of the street, the reality of my situation sank in deeper.

I may have bitten off more than I could chew with a man like Maxim Morozov.

As he put me down beside the car, his movements were controlled, almost gentle. He opened the passenger door but didn't push me in. Instead, he stood there, watching me with an intensity that made my stomach flutter with nervousness just from the expression on his face.

"I'm not trying to scare you," he finally said, his voice low and somewhat apologetic, "but I need you to understand the seriousness of the situation. You're not safe on your own, not tonight and not after what happened. I can protect you, and I will. But I need your cooperation and when we get home, I'll give you what you so desperately need."

"I don't need anything," I countered, but for some reason the butterflies in my tummy went on overdrive.

What the hell did he mean?

His face remained stoic and unyielding and when I looked around him for any possibility of escape, he shook his head as if he could read my mind.

"Don't even think about it, little girl. You've already made several bad decisions tonight and I'm not going to allow any more. Get in the car before I decide to deal with you out here on the street instead of the privacy of your own bedroom tonight," he threatened.

Deal with me?

The butterflies in my stomach flew right up into my throat and I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought of him, but when his expression hardened, I thought better of it. I closed my mouth and searched his gaze, trying to find any clue as to what he meant and finding nothing.

I'd gambled and lost.

"I'm not just some little girl to be dealt with," I muttered softly, glaring back at him as I turned toward the Range Rover and climbed back inside. The leather felt even colder against my skin, my failed escape attempt still fresh in my mind.

"We'll see about that," he said firmly.

He closed the door behind me and walked around to the driver's side, slipping in next to me. I sat back with a huff and crossed my arms in front of my chest. I heard a click as he locked the doors.

I sulked.

And the goddamn bastard smiled.