Page 15 of Desperate People (Mergers & Acquisitions #5)

A lright, so I’m barely awake.

Still tangled up in the warmth of Lucy’s body—my Lucy.

Her skin pressed to mine, her hair a mess against my chest, one of her legs tossed across my hips like she owns me.

And she does.

Completely.

I’d burn the fucking world for her, and last night proved it.

I’ve never known peace like this. Never wanted to.

And for a second— one blissful, arrogant second —I think nothing can ruin this moment. That’s my first mistake.

Of course, that’s when fate, that vindictive bitch, pulls the rug out from under me.

There’s a crash downstairs.

Glass shattering. A door slams open. Fast, heavy footsteps.

My phone lights up on the nightstand.

Missed calls. Blown-up messages.

Then the intercom buzzes again.

The whole house feels like it’s vibrating.

Lucy stirs against me, and I barely have time to sit up— still naked, still dazed —before my bedroom door flies open with the force of a goddamn SWAT team breach.

Marat Volkov. The Devil Wolf himself.

All six-foot-something of his fallen angel fury, storming into my bedroom like God himself just gave him clearance to end me.

And I’m standing there.

Naked.

Between him and his daughter.

Of fucking course I am.

Lucy gasps, dragging the sheet over her chest, eyes wide and panicked. I stay where I am.

Between her and danger.

Even if this time the danger is her own goddamn father.

“You fucking son of a bitch! What the fuck did you do?!” Marat’s voice is a snarl, feral and unrelenting. “She’s my daughter! My goddamn daughter!”

He’s shouting, fists clenched, eyes wild—and for a second, I don’t breathe.

I don’t move. I let him rage. I let him scream.

Because yeah, he’s her father. And I know how much that job weighs.

But I also know something else.

I’m not letting him put that fear on her. Not in my house.

And when he does turn that fury toward her, his face twisted in rage and pain, I admit, I am slow to react.

“The goddamn paparazzi are all over your place, Lucy! One of those assholes followed this prick’s security team straight to Sigma. They’re saying the face of Volkov Industries is an easy fucking target now!” he bellows.

My blood runs hot.

“Fuck,” I grind out. My hands are already fists.

Marat glares at me then spins back to her, like I’m not even there. “What the fuck is this I’m hearing about someone breaking into your apartment?! You have a stalker?! And you didn’t call us? You didn’t call me?!”

Lucy looks wrecked. Her face goes pale, eyes filling with tears she tries to blink away.

And I can’t take that.

I step forward, still naked but way past giving a shit.

“Enough,” I bite out, voice low and cold.

Marat freezes.

“I know you're pissed,” I go on, “and you’ve got every right. But don’t talk to her like she did something wrong.”

“She did do something wrong. I’m her father! She didn’t call me.”

“She was terrified,” I snap, stepping closer, placing myself directly between him and the bed. “You want to yell at someone? Yell at me. I’m the one she called.”

That quiets him.

I watch as realization filters into those sharp, brutal eyes of his.

Not just rage now. Pain. Fear.

The same thing I’ve been carrying for hours.

“She came to me,” I say again, softer now. “And I’ll never let anything happen to her. Not again.”

Silence stretches.

Lucy’s fingers graze my lower back.

She’s reaching for me. Holding on.

And I swear, I feel it in my chest. Like she’s stitching me back together from the inside out.

Marat looks between us, the air heavy as hell with too much emotion.

And I brace myself.

Because this is only the beginning.

Her father turns, and I get it. I even respect him, but I still fucking move.

One step, one turn and I’m standing between them, dick still swinging.

Just enough to remind him I’m still here, and I’m not letting him come at her like that.

“Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t call you, but how did the press find out? Did anyone follow me here?” Lucy’s voice is shaking, but there’s a steel spine behind it.

My girl is brave even when she’s terrified.

Marat’s chest heaves.

“No. I don’t know how they found out. I fucking found out who you were with after Uncle Josef questioned the team who cleaned your apartment.”

“They cleaned up?—?”

I feel her eyes cut to me, betrayal and confusion flickering in her expression like a live wire.

But I won’t look at her. Not yet. Not while her father’s still on the edge of exploding. Not until I know this fire is under control.

“Everything is gone, Lucy,” Marat continues, his voice softening just enough to be jarring.

He shifts gears, finally speaking like her father and not some enraged crime boss kicking down doors.

“Your bed. Your vanity. The—” He swallows hard, visibly pained. “The rest.”

That awful silence falls.

But I’m not letting my guard down.

Of course, he’s not done.

His voice hardens again.

“But imagine how your mother felt, Lucy. Reading about the break-in in Page Six. The reporters ran a piece calling you the ‘Billion-Dollar Diablita’ before dawn. She’s been calling, texting, panicking. Not one answer all night. I had to track your damn phone to find you.”

Lucy flinches. Her fingers tighten around the sheet she’s still wrapped in like armor.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I—I wasn’t thinking about the press. Someone broke in and violated my space and left something vile on my bed. I couldn’t think straight. I panicked. I called Balor because I trust him.”

“You trust him? The man’s a fucking criminal! A thug! A goddamn hacker!” Marat shouts, flinging his arm toward me like I’m some cockroach crawling across the marble floors.

“Oh my God! Pot calling the kettle black much?” Lucy snaps. “I’m an adult, Daddy, and I’m telling you, I trust him!”

She’s on fire now. Fierce. Defending me.

And I’m caught between disbelief and something that feels like pride, if pride could cut you open and leave you bleeding.

But I don’t want her to have to do that. Not for me. Not against her father.

Marat opens his mouth again, his jaw twitching, but I raise a hand—quiet but sharp.

“Enough.”

His eyes narrow to slits.

“You got something to say, asshole?” he snarls, stepping toward me like he’s spoiling for a fight. “We fucking trusted you. My brother gave you a job. Brought you into the family business. And this is how you repay him? You sneak into my daughter’s bed like a fucking wolf in the night?”

I meet his rage with calm that feels like glass cracking beneath my skin.

“I didn’t sneak,” I say evenly. “She called me. I answered.”

“That’s it?” he scoffs. “She’s scared and you just sweep in like the hero? You think this makes you some kind of savior?”

“No,” I growl, my voice dropping low. “But I am the man who got her out. The one who showed up when she needed someone. Where the fuck were you?”

He lunges— one step —but Lucy’s voice slices through the room.

“Daddy, stop it!” she says, louder than I’ve ever heard her.

Her hands clutch the sheet like she’s holding herself together.

“This isn’t helping. I make my own choices. I called him. Not you. Not Uncle Josef. Not Mom. Him. Because I knew he’d come.”

Her voice breaks, just a little, and I want to destroy every single person who ever made her cry.

But Marat? He’s not hearing it.

“Oh, and he’s just some innocent bystander? Come on, Lucy, I’ve taught you better. You put yourself in the limelight, and this is what happens. The world is always watching. You think this doesn’t look like some publicity stunt? A lover’s spat between you and that slick motherfucker Rico El Tigre?”

Lucy’s breath catches, like he slapped her. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t give a damn about fair!” Marat bellows. “I give a damn about you! Your safety. Your future. Do you have any idea what this looks like to the press? The Board? The goddamn shareholders?”

And I snap.

I take one slow step forward. “You want to worry about the Board?” I say quietly, ice in my voice.

“Worry about how they’ll react when they find out you scared the hell out of your daughter, berating her for something that isn’t her fault after bursting into someone else’s home, unannounced and completely unfuckinghinged. ”

He glares, breathing hard.

“She’s not just the face of Volkov Industries. She’s a fucking person,” I add. “My person.”

Lucy gasps. I don’t look at her.

Marat’s nostrils flare.

“You want to tear me apart later? Fine. But right now, she’s exhausted. Shaken. Not to mention half-naked. So if you’re done blowing smoke and calling me names like it’s a playground pissing contest, maybe we can revisit this conversation when we’re not all standing in my goddamn bedroom.”

For a long beat, no one says a word.

Then Marat finally— finally —takes a step back.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he growls, eyes burning into mine.

“I know,” I say.

He looks to Lucy. “I love you. You know that.”

She nods, eyes glassy. “I know. I love you too. And I promise you, Balor is honorable, Daddy. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

I should step in now and do the right thing.

Tell her she doesn’t have to say all this.

Doesn’t have to give anything up for me.

Fuck. She’s so good.

Defending me to her father.

Like she owes me something.

I should just let her go with him.

Set her free.

Tell her last night doesn’t come with chains.

But I don’t.

Because I want her.

I want her.

And I’m greedy.

I want her in my house. In my bed. In my life.

So no, I’m not walking away.

Not because of the fucking press. Not because of her father. Not for anything.

“Fine. He’s honorable, you say?” Marat growls, voice razor-sharp, and turns to face me fully.

His eyes are wild, jaw clenched, and even though he’s older, I can see how he was voted the Sexiest Man in Business eight times over by leading magazines.

Lucy is definitely his daughter.

The two of them are stunningly beautiful.

So much so, it hurts to look at them sometimes.

But I look at him.

Hell, I don’t even blink.

His suit jacket is thrown open like he stormed in without stopping long enough to remember who the hell he was.

“Well, Mr. Fucking Honorable,” he bites, stepping forward. “I want to know right now. How far are you willing to go to protect my daughter?”

I stand there, still naked, tension crawling down my spine.

“She’s all over the goddamn news,” he spits. “They’re having a fucking field day with it. Headlines tearing her apart, leaking that her security was lax. That she’s reckless. That she’s easy to get to. Is that how you plan to keep her safe?”

His voice breaks slightly.

Not weakness—terror.

And I get it.

Because the mere idea of Lucy in danger?

Well, it terrifies me, too.

“She’s in danger. Again. Maybe always. Are you gonna step in, big man?

” he hisses. “You gonna make an honest woman out of her, take her off the market—put her under your protection? Or do I need to drag her onto a fucking plane and get her out of the country, lock her down until this blows over? Just like I fucking did last time some asshole got too close!”

My eye twitches. Something like this happened before? Rage fills me.

“Daddy, no!”

Lucy’s voice cracks like glass.

Not furious. Not defiant.

Afraid.

And it’s that look— her eyes wide, body going rigid right beside me —that makes something primal snap in my chest.

I’ve seen her angry. I’ve seen her coy. I’ve seen her powerful and stubborn and smart as hell.

But afraid? Really afraid.

No.

Not on my watch.

I take a step forward.

Slow. Controlled.

Every movement is deliberate, radiating the threat I’ve worked my whole life to keep under control.

I let the silence drag, let the weight of what I’m about to say settle into the room like a coming storm.

Marat Volkov wants an answer?

He’s about to get one.

“Let’s clear one thing up, Mr. Volkov.”

My voice is low. Even. Cold as a blade.

“Lucy is mine.”

I say it again, slower this time, locking eyes with him so he doesn’t mistake a single fucking syllable.

“She. Is. Mine.”

His mouth tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“So yeah, I’m going to protect her. Me. Only me. I don’t have to make an honest woman of her because she’s already the most honest woman I fucking know. But I do have every intention of walking her down the aisle,” I continue, my tone steel-wrapped conviction.

“Balor—” Lucy gasps.

“I have every goddamn intention of putting my ring on her finger. My last name attached to hers. Mine. Me. That’s always been my end game. Building a life with Lucy. A home. A future. Anything she wants. Everything she needs. And I am the only man who can give it to her.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s fucking so. Of course, this wasn’t how I planned it, but understand this.”

I wait a moment, letting him absorb what I’m saying.

“There is no one— not the press, not some stalker, not even you —who’s ever going to get to her. Not without going through me first.”

Marat stares at me, jaw ticking, his chest rising and falling like a man at war with himself.

And I get it. I do.

He’s scared. She’s his daughter. His world.

But she’s mine now, too.

And I will protect her with everything I have.

From her stalker. From the press. Even from him.

I take another step closer, my voice lowering to something dark and intimate.

“If you think for one second that packing her up, carting her off, locking her up in some foreign country is protecting her—you don’t know her at all. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll never get the chance to do any of that.”

Behind me, Lucy makes a soft sound— shock, maybe. Or relief.

“Your daughter’s not a thing to be hidden. She’s a fucking force. And I’m not just going to protect her,” I add, eyes hard. “I’m going to stand beside her. I;m going to support her no matter what. I’ll hold the match while she burns down the world if she has to.”

A heavy silence stretches between us.

One heartbeat. Two .

Then Marat exhales slowly.

And for the first time since he barged in, I see it, the flicker of something almost like respect in his eyes.

The room goes still.

Lucy’s breath hitches behind me.

Marat’s glare falters, just for a second.

But I’m not done.

“She’s not a child. And she’s not a toy. But yes, I’ll protect her with everything I have, because that’s what she deserves.”

“And you’ll marry her? This week,” he says, dipping his chin.

I nod.

Because yes, I’m going to marry her. The very idea of it has my blood pumping and my pulse racing.

Everything I tell him is the truth.

Raw. Ugly. Honest.

And no, I might not be good enough for her.

But I’m all in.

And I’m not ever letting her go.