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I can’t tell if that’s a good sign or a bad one.
But Mikhail is dangerous. He’s calculating. If he suspects anything, I’ll lose whatever sliver of freedom I have left.
He exhales slowly, crossing his arms. “Where do you want to go?”
My pulse jumps.
That’s…not a no.
I wet my lips, trying not to sound too eager. “Anywhere. Just out. A drive, a walk—something.”
He watches me for another long moment, his gaze piercing through every layer of my skin.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally says.
I nod, forcing myself to look frustrated instead of relieved. As he turns away, my fingers tighten around the narcissus.
It’s not a guarantee.
But it’s a chance.
Now, I just have to figure out what to do with it.
13
MIKHAIL
I’m not the kind of man who takes a woman out on a date.
I don’tdate, period.
My life has never allowed for things like romance, for idle dinners and soft touches under candlelight. I’ve spent too many years building my empire, securing my position, making sure that no one—no one—can ever take what’s mine.
And yet, here I am.
Planning a date.
For mywife.
I glance down at the dress laid out before me. Deep emerald green, elegant but not extravagant, designed to complement her fair skin and those fiery eyes she throws at me when she’s furious.
She’s been miserable. I see it in the way she drifts through the halls, in the way she barely eats, in the way her fingers curl restlessly against her skirts like she’s fighting the urge torun.
And maybe she is.
The thought settles uncomfortably in my chest.
Torres clears his throat from where he’s leaning against the desk, arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s watching me with the same wary expression he’s worn ever since I told him what I was doing.
“You sure about this?” he asks, his tone careful.
I don’t look up from the dress. “She’s miserable in here.”
Torres exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Mikhail, that’s the point. She doesn’twantto be here. And now you’re letting her out, giving her a taste of something she’s been craving since she got here.”
I lift a brow, finally meeting his gaze. “And?”
He hesitates, then pushes off the desk, stepping closer. “And what if she’s manipulating you?”