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TASH

I grip my coffee cup tighter, walking into the boardroom. The familiar scent of his cologne hits me before I see him. My heart skips, but I force my expression to remain neutral.

"Good morning." I sit, deliberately avoiding his piercing gaze from across the table. "Today's agenda includes the upcoming Impressionist exhibition."

The meeting proceeds with excruciating slowness. Every time Dmitri speaks, his voice makes my stomach flutter. I hate that my body still responds to him this way, even after everything.

"Ms. Blackwood, your thoughts on the security measures?" Mr. Patterson asks.

I launch into my prepared statement but falter when I feel Dmitri's eyes on me. Last night's encounter outside the restaurant flashes through my mind—his hand reaching for mine, the emotion in his voice as he'd tried to explain, the dozens of roses delivered to my office this morning, the handwritten note I'd torn up without reading.

"The new system will be fully operational by next month," I continue, proud that my voice remains steady.

Dmitri raises his hand. "I'd like to personally oversee the security upgrades." His tone is purely professional, but I know better. It's another excuse to be near me.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Ivanov. Our team is more than capable."

Our eyes meet briefly. The intensity in his gaze makes my chest tight. But I remember Katarina, remember what he's capable of, and look away first.

The meeting ends, and I gather my papers quickly. Dmitri moves toward me as I stand, but Mr. Patterson intercepts him with questions about his latest donation. I slip out of the boardroom, ignoring the weight of unspoken words between us.

In the elevator, I press my forehead against the cool metal wall. Despite everything, my heart still aches for him. But I won't let myself be fooled again, no matter how sincere his efforts seem.

I sink into my office chair. The familiar ache in my chest returns as I try to focus on the exhibition paperwork before me. Every time I see him, it gets harder to maintain this wall between us.

A knock at my door makes me freeze. I know that knock.

"Come in." My voice betrays nothing of the chaos within.

Dmitri enters, closing the door behind him. He's shed his suit jacket, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong inked forearms. The sight makes my mouth go dry.

"What do you want?" I keep my tone cold and professional.

"Tell me what I need to do." He stays by the door, giving me space. "What will it take for you to hear me out?"

I look up, meeting those ice-blue eyes. "There's nothing to hear."

"We both know that's not true." He takes a step forward, then stops when I tense. "I've sent flowers, gifts?—"

"You can't buy forgiveness, Dmitri." The words come out sharper than intended. "You can't buy me."

"I'm not trying to." His voice drops lower, rawer. "I'm trying to show you?—"

"Show me what? That you can manipulate situations to your advantage? That you're used to getting what you want?" I stand, needing to feel less vulnerable. "You kept Katarina prisoner. You used me as a pawn in your war."

"Is that what you think?" He runs a hand through his hair, a rare display of frustration. "Just give me one chance to explain. Name your terms."

I grip the edge of my desk. "My terms? How about honesty? Complete honesty about everything—no more games, manipulation, or half-truths."

His jaw tightens at my demand for honesty. For a moment, I glimpse something raw and vulnerable in those ice-blue eyes.

"You want honesty?" Dmitri's voice comes out rough. "I've killed people. Ordered deaths. Built an empire on blood money and threats." He takes a step closer. "But I've never lied about what I feel for you."

My heart pounds against my ribs. "And Katarina?"

"A calculated move after her father wouldn't stop attacking us." His hands clench at his sides. "I thought I could control everything. Then you came along."

The admission hangs heavy between us. I watch his perfect facade crack, revealing the darkness and complexity beneath.

"I don't know how to do this," he continues, gesturing between us. "I don't know how to be both the man you deserve and the man I have to be."

"I never asked you to be anyone else." I clench my jaw. "I just asked for the truth."

"The truth?" His laugh holds no humor. "The truth is I wake up terrified that my enemies will hurt you to get to me. Every time you walk into this museum, I have three security teams tracking your movements. That I..." He stops, running a hand through his hair. "That I've never felt this out of control."

The raw honesty in his voice makes my chest ache.

I take a shaky breath. "And how do I know this isn't another manipulation?"

"Because I don't have a plan for the first time in my life." He meets my gaze. "I just know I can't lose you."

My body yearns to close the distance, but my mind screams warnings about the danger he represents. Everything about him is a risk—to my safety, career, and heart. Yet, watching him stand there, finally letting his walls down, I wonder if some risks are worth taking.

I take a steadying breath, my fingers still gripping the edge of my desk. "We can talk, Dmitri. But not now. I have to finalize the Monet exhibition layouts and three donor meetings this afternoon."

His shoulders relax slightly at my words. It's so subtle that most people wouldn't notice, but I've learned to read the micro-expressions that crack through his perfect control.

"When?" His voice holds none of its usual commanding tone.

"Soon." I shuffle the papers on my desk, needing something to do with my hands. "But I need you to talk to me. No calculated responses, no carefully crafted explanations. Just you."

"You want the monster beneath the suit?" His jaw tightens.

"I want the truth. All of it." I meet his gaze. "Even the parts you think will make me run."

He studies me for a long moment, and I force myself not to look away. Finally, he nods. "I'll text you."

"Okay." The word comes out softer than I intended.

Dmitri moves toward the door, his hand pausing on the handle. For a second, I think he might turn back, might say something more. Instead, he straightens his shoulders and walks out, leaving me with the lingering scent of his cologne and the weight of everything unsaid between us.

I stare at the door long after Dmitri leaves, my heart racing. The truth is, beneath all my anger and hurt, I miss him. I miss how his eyes soften when he looks at me, how his touch lights me on fire, even the commanding presence that used to drive me crazy.

Running my fingers over the smooth surface of my desk, I remember all our encounters here. Each heated moment, each whispered promise. Despite everything he's done, despite the darkness I now know lurks beneath his perfect exterior, my feelings haven't changed.

"Damn it," I whisper to the empty office, pressing my palms against my eyes.

I love him. The realization isn't new, but it hits me harder now. I love the calculating businessman, the dangerous crime lord, and the vulnerable man who just stood in my office asking for a chance—all of him—the light and the dark.

My phone buzzes with a text. It's from Sofia:

Did Dmitri talk to you?

I type back.

Yes. We're meeting soon.

When he tells me everything and finally lets me see all of him, what excuse will I have left? The truth is, I've been using his secrets as a shield to keep my distance because being vulnerable is exactly how people get their hearts broken. But if he opens up completely...

My stomach flutters at the thought. I already know we belong together—I’ve felt it from that first heated encounter at Sofia’s wedding. The chemistry between us has always been undeniable and electric. But it's more than that now. I understand him in ways I never expected to, and I want all of him—the businessman, the brother, the criminal, the lover.