Page 23
I see the car the moment I step outside, parked just beyond the gate like it belongs there. It doesn’t. I don’t recognize it, and I recognize every vehicle that’s meant to be in the area. No one’s inside as far as I can tell, but my gut says otherwise.
For a few seconds, I just stand there, fighting the urge to pull my weapon and approach.
Two weeks ago, I would have. I would’ve forced whoever was lurking inside to step out and answer my questions.
But now, I’ve got bigger concerns. I’ve got Cecily.
And the more she grows into her role, the more I realize just how vulnerable I am if Thorne aims to exploit her presence here.
My phone vibrates. I glance at the screen: Maksim texting for an update.
I type a quick note— Strange car out front, no immediate threat —and stuff the phone in my pocket.
Then I force myself to walk inside. If I make a show of aggression, I might tip off whoever’s watching that I’m onto them.
Better to let them think I haven’t noticed or that I don’t care.
At least until I decide how to handle it.
I pass two guards posted by the gate. They dip their heads in greeting, then stare past my shoulder at the car.
I give a slight shake of my head, signaling them to stand down for now.
One of them looks uneasy, but he doesn’t question me.
Loyalty. It’s why I trust these men. But trust doesn’t mean I can relax.
Stepping into the foyer, I let out a breath. The memory of last night won’t leave me alone. I can’t shake it. Each time I walk into the dining room and look at that table, I end up replaying every moment in excruciating detail. That’s new for me, letting a woman’s presence consume my thoughts.
She’s done that. Taken my carefully structured life and turned it inside out. And I’m falling for her, no matter how much sense it doesn’t make. But loving someone in this world means handing any enemy a potential weakness. That terrifies me more than any war we’ve waged.
I head toward my office, half expecting to find Cecily there.
She’s taken to reviewing intel on her own.
The girl is always looking for angles we might’ve missed.
I push the door open. Empty. Good. That gives me a moment to think.
Or so I tell myself. In truth, I’m avoiding her until I have a plan, a method to ensure she doesn’t end up in a sniper’s crosshairs.
I sink into the leather chair and rub a hand over my face.
My thoughts refuse to settle. I keep picturing that car outside, imagining the muzzle of a rifle pointed toward any window Cecily might pass.
My chest constricts at the idea of losing her, especially now that she’s more than an asset.
She’s become the reason I can’t sleep without double-checking every lock and every camera feed.
The door creaks open. Maksim steps in and closes it behind him. “You saw it?”
“No plates, dark tint. Could be Thorne. Could be a scout.”
“Sure you don’t want me to send someone out there?”
“I want them left alone for now. Let’s see if they make a move. If we spook them, we lose the advantage.”
He arches a brow but doesn’t argue. “Fine. You gonna tell Cecily?”
The mention of her name sets my pulse racing. “I’ll handle it.”
He studies me for a beat longer, then shrugs. “Security’s tight all around, but maybe we should reinforce the second floor. That corridor has too many windows.”
“Yeah. I’m restricting access to any area with a direct line of sight from outside. Starting tonight.”
Maksim snorts softly. “Cecily’s not going to like that.”
“No, she won’t,” I admit as I stand. “But it’s necessary.”
He offers a small nod. Then he leaves, presumably to organize the men.
Once he’s gone, I force myself to gather a plan.
Tighter security means confining Cecily to certain parts of the house.
She’ll see it as me doubting her abilities.
In a way, maybe I am. Not because she can’t handle herself, but because I can’t handle the risk of losing her.
I genuinely thought most of this activity would stop if we got married. Instead, it’s picked up. It almost seems to have encouraged Thorne even more.
I push away from the desk and walk out. The corridor feels oddly quiet. Maybe she’s in the living room, or the library, or the lounge. I set off to find her, mentally rehearsing the conversation we’re about to have because I know it’s not going to go well.
Sure enough, I spot her in the living room, staring at a monitor that cycles through surveillance feeds. She’s changed so much since she arrived, no longer the frightened but snippy captive. Now, she stands like an integral part of our operation. It’s been impressive to witness.
I approach and clear my throat to get her attention. She glances over her shoulder and says, “Did you see that car outside?”
I should have realized she’d notice. “Yes. Maksim and I are handling it. I wanted to talk to you about a few changes we’re making.”
She tilts her head. “What changes?”
“I’m restricting access to certain areas. The second floor near the west side has too many windows, and the east gallery is basically a vantage point for any sniper.”
“You mean restricting me , right? Because your men will still patrol.”
“For your safety.”
She squares her shoulders. “I knew you were paranoid, but this is a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Not after seeing that car. Thorne’s watchers could be out there, scoping angles. If you walk by a window, you become a target.”
“I get the risk, but you’re blowing it out of proportion. You said yourself you want to see what they do before reacting.”
“Still, I can’t risk letting them take a clear shot. Look, we’re winning right now, but Thorne hates losing. We can’t afford complacency.”
“And apparently, we can’t afford to trust me to use common sense. You know I’m not going to dance around windows waving my arms.”
“It’s not about your sense. It’s about controlling the variables.”
She snorts. “So you’re going back to keeping me on a short leash. I get it.”
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. I want to explain that this has nothing to do with doubting her and everything to do with my growing terror that I might lose her. But I don’t. I can’t show that vulnerability. Instead, I say, “I’m not discussing this. It’s final.”
Her hazel eyes come alive with that familiar blaze of defiance, and she sputters her lips. “You can’t just make decisions that affect me without asking my opinion.”
I lift a brow. “This is how it works. My house, my rules.”
“We’re married ,” she reminds me. “Which means this is my house too. Besides, I thought we were partners, at least in this fight.”
“We are partners. But that doesn’t change the fact that I won’t let you become a casualty.”
“You talk like I’m fragile. Like I can’t handle myself. I’ve proven otherwise.”
“Cecily, you know better than anyone that Thorne doesn’t play fair. He’ll exploit any window—literally or figuratively—to get to you.”
She tosses her hair back. “And you think locking me in the safest corners helps? Maybe for a day. Maybe a week. But what about after? Are you going to keep restricting my movements forever until I’m confined to my room like I was when I first got here?”
The word forever slams into my chest like a loaded possibility.
Forever. With her.
I never considered the idea, and the notion makes me lightheaded. I shove the thought away, forcing myself to focus.
“If it keeps you alive, yes.”
Her face falls for a second, then frustration returns. “That’s not living, Dimitri.”
“I’d rather have you hate me than see you dead.”
She flinches, as if I’ve hit a nerve. “I don’t hate you. But if you keep pushing me into a corner, I might start.”
Part of me wants to pull her into my arms and promise that this is only temporary. Once I figure out who’s in that car, I’ll ease off. But I don’t know how long that might take, and every second she’s exposed is a second she could end up in Thorne’s line of sight.
“Do you really think the situation is that bad?” she questions.
“I think we’d be fools to assume otherwise.”
“I can’t do this. I won’t let you treat me like an invalid. If you truly believe in me, you’d know I wouldn’t carelessly wander into a sniper’s scope.”
“All it takes is one second of inattention, one stray bullet—”
She lifts a hand, cutting me off. “Stop. I’m tired of hearing how close I am to dying. I’d rather die on my feet than be caged.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive because I—” I break off, forcing myself not to reveal the depth of my feelings.
She notices, and she squints at me. “Because you what?”
“Because it’s my job to protect everyone under my roof.”
She barks a bitter laugh. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that’s the only reason.”
Her accusation hits home, but I can’t let her see how much it rattles me. “That car is still out there,” I say instead. “And until I know what it’s doing, the house remains on partial lockdown. You can stay in the interior quarters. I’ll assign guards.”
Her lips curl into a sneer. “This is exactly why I said you were no different than my father sometimes. You might not be as cruel, but you’re just as controlling.”
That hurts more than I expect. But maybe she’s right. Maybe I am controlling, out of a fear I can’t fully admit—fear that I’ve let her in too deep and now can’t bear to lose her.
She turns on her heel. “I’m done with this conversation.”
I step forward, wanting to stop her, but my phone buzzes again. A text from Maksim: The car’s gone . Another from a guard says: Clear perimeter, no sign of intruders .
I open my mouth to inform her the threat is gone, but she storms off before I can speak, stomping through the hallway and vanishing around the corner.
I guess this is how it ends tonight, with her furious and me convinced the only way to keep her breathing is to keep her under lock and key.
I watch the space where she disappeared, and every fiber of me wants to chase after her, to beg her to forgive my iron grip on her freedom.
But I can’t. If I chase her, I don’t trust myself to keep my feelings to myself.
So I stand still and let her storm away, listening to the echo of her footsteps in the silence. The worst part is knowing that tomorrow might bring the same argument, the same fear, and the same longing.
Because I’m falling for her, and it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever faced.