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It goes against my instincts to choose a decidedly unromantic place to take Ella. All I want to do is spoil her, and that means bringing her to the best spots in the city. Luckily, I know a place that serves amazing food in a casual, pub-like atmosphere, so that’s where we are heading.

After the shitshow at the hotel, I didn’t think I’d ever have her in my car again, but here she is, sitting beside me. I can barely keep my eyes on the road. God, she’s gorgeous. Every thought in my mind is of her, and I don’t give a damn if that’s unhealthy; that’s just how it is. She’s everything to me.

I screech to a stop at a red light I definitely didn’t notice and throw her an apologetic smile when she thumps back against her seat.

“I thought you were a good driver,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. She let it loose when we left the office, and the whole car is filled with the scent of her shampoo. I hope it lingers for days.

“I am,” I say, thinking when I’m looking at the road and not at you. “We stopped in time, didn’t we?”

She shakes her head, but she can’t hide the hint of a smile that makes my stomach flip. I’m so hopeless for this girl. Any time I can make her smile or laugh, it’s like a hit from the best drug in the universe.

We get out at the pub, and I let the valet park my car because I’m not stepping away from Ella for even a second. I’m armed and wary, searching every face we pass because it doesn’t matter that the last attack happened in another city—they could be anywhere. The Abashins are looking for trouble, and they’ll be pissed that I took out four of their men, so it’s just a matter of time before they strike back. When they do, I’ll be ready for them.

“This is exactly what I wanted,” Ella beams, stopping to admire the kitschy decor.

It’s all dark wood and low, lamp lighting, tufted leather seating in the booths or stools in front of the old, lacquered bar top. We take a booth by the window, and I sit across from Ella, doing another scan of the place. Crowded, loud, and completely unromantic, but it puts us close enough that my knees brush against hers every time she shifts in the seat, so that’s a bonus.

“Don’t let it fool you,” I say, sliding her a menu, “the food here is amazing. Best burger I’ve ever had.”

“So. Much. Beer.” Her eyes go wide as she looks over the extensive on-tap offerings.

A far cry from the champagne and caviar I’d like to treat her to, but it’s clear she’s comfortable here. That makes one of us. I’m nervous . My hands shake a little while I hold the menu, and I set it down on the table. I’m so desperate to make a good impression on her that I can barely order; the words tumble out of my mouth too quickly, so I have to repeat myself.

The noise from the bar gives us some privacy, at least. Ella takes a sip of her beer and leans in toward me, long eyelashes fluttering over those big, brown eyes. If this were a normal date, I’d kiss her. Instead, I bounce my leg beneath the table and wrap my hands around my pint glass to keep them off of her.

“You’re good at this,” she says, swirling her finger around to take in the pub. “Have you brought many girls on dates to this place?”

“Never,” I answer honestly. “This is just my spot, actually, and I haven’t wanted to share. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

That lights her up, and maybe not all hope is lost. “Really? Not even your family?”

“Just you.”

Our burgers arrive, and for a while, all we talk about is the food because it’s that good. But eventually, there’s no dodging the subject that brought her into my office today. The whole reason I might lose her.

“What do you think?” I say when I can’t stand it any longer. I just have to know. Is she going to stay, or do I need to somehow prepare myself to lose her?

She doesn’t play coy. We both know what’s sitting between us. “I think… there’s more to it than just what you showed me today. There’s more to it than just happy workers and a secret business. I know that firsthand.”

I inhale sharply. She’s right, of course she’s right. I just didn’t want to have to go there.

“There is.” The words hang between us.

“Show me,” she says, with that look of determination I’ve become so familiar with. Like a dog with a bone, she’s not letting this go.

I made her a promise, and when it comes to Ella, I’m a man of my word, so despite everything screaming at me not to show her, that it’ll be the final straw that drives her away from me, I take her back to my apartment. It’s not like the last time she was here when we had our hands all over each other. This time, she keeps them in her fists by her sides as I walk her to my office and sit her down in my computer chair.

“What is this?” she asks, glancing up at me behind her.

I bend down to use the mouse, so close to her cheek that it takes everything in me not to kiss her. What I’m about to show her will ruin any idea of romance she might be having, anyway.

“The dark side.” I turn my head so we’re practically nose to nose, and there’s nowhere to look but right into her eyes. So innocent, and I’m about to ruin it. “Are you sure you want to see this? I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It’s rough. Once you see some of this stuff, there’s no going back.”

She looks down and takes a minute to think it over before nodding. “I’m sure. I have to know, or I can’t really understand what I’m walking into. Or away from.”

Brave girl. For a second, I let myself hope that maybe this won’t scare her away, that she’ll see everything I have to show her and somehow embrace the Milov family and all of its sides. Viktor found someone who could love all of him, and maybe I can too. But I’m not holding out hope. This is the sort of shit I shield Anya from, and she was born into this world. Ella? She’s just too pure.

I click play and step back. Ella gets a front-row seat to all the worst of the Bratva world, a slideshow of murders, beatings, and blackmail. This is what she asked for. Her sharp intakes of breath stab needles into my heart, but I let it roll, let her decide for herself when she’s had enough, and try to brace myself for the eventuality. She’s going to walk away. She’s never going to want to see me again.

The thought drives the air from my lungs even as I deny it. If she leaves, I’ll lose my fucking mind. I know that much. I don’t have it in me to give her up and stay sane, not when she’s my obsession, my everything. She’s it for me, and if she goes, there’s no point in trying to be good anymore.

After ten minutes of the darkest parts of humanity, she pushes the chair back and gets to her feet. Her face is pale, whiter than I’ve ever seen it, and her eyes are haunted. I’m torn between reaching for her to offer comfort and backing away, letting her make her decision.

“It’s horrible,” I say, because she seems too stunned to speak and I have to say something. “This world… there’s not much about it I can change. I was born into it. My family is enmeshed with it.”

She shudders and wraps her arm around herself. I wonder if she’s reliving those moments in the hotel, when it could have so easily turned into a scene like the ones she was just watching.

I go on because now I can’t shut up. I have to justify it somehow, explain away the sharp edges. As if that’s possible.

“Even though we’re a part of it and there’s some stuff that’s unavoidable, we really do try to be a little bit better. Not so cruel. We aren’t saints,” I say, nodding toward the screen. “But we’re not the worst of it. That’s splitting hairs at this point, isn’t it?”

God, I’m rambling. None of my words are helping, that much is obvious from the stricken expression she’s wearing, but I can’t stop. They just keep spilling out.

“Obviously, I understand that you never want to see me again.” Just saying it cuts me to the bone, but I can’t let her see it. I don’t want to say her with my own feelings when the only ones that matter right now are hers. “Now that you’ve seen the real me.”

She’s crying. Dammit. I’ve probably just given her nightmares for the rest of her life. All I ever wanted to do was make her life better, lift her up, and I’ve just dragged her down into the filth that is my life.

Tears run down her cheeks, streaking her makeup. My hands twitch by my side. I just want to pull her in and hold her. She’d probably slap my hands away. I deserve it.

“I’ve already seen the real you,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it. “And I’m still here.”

She can’t mean it. I’m just staring at her like an idiot when she closes the gap between us and kisses me. It’s only when she’s pressed against me that I feel my body come back to my life, and my brain kicks on again because she’s here. She’s still here. My Ella.

Her kisses are salt-stained for what I hope is the last time ever. I can’t get enough of them, or of her. She’s staying. Our touches are frantic and hungry, the kiss deepening as her fingers work at undoing my belt.

I break the contact just to pull her sweater off, then crush her lips against mine again, my tongue tangling with hers and she tastes so sweet. Ella’s busy, pushing down my pants and freeing my cock from my briefs. It’s already hard for her. All she has to do is look at me, and I’m ready to go.

She drops to her knees, and I just about melt then and there. The way she looks up at me with those doe eyes makes me groan. Her lips part, and her tongue flicks out across the head of my cock, tasting my precum.

I fist my finger in her hair, holding the back of her head as she sucks me into her mouth. It’s all I can do not to buck forward and bury the rest of my cock down her throat, she feels that good. Her tongue is swirling while she starts to slide her mouth up and down my shaft, taking a little more of me each time.

“Such a good girl,” I moan, feeling the head hit the back of her throat.

She just takes it. The sight is too good to be true, the way her lips are stretched around the fattest part, her perfect breasts jiggling. Ella on her knees in my office? Dream come true.

I tilt her head back just a little for a better view and slide forward until I’m nearly fully buried in her mouth. It gets me so close, I have to pull back out and drag her up to her feet.

“My turn,” I say, pushing her back against the desk until her ass hits it. I lift her up the rest of the way onto it and push up that teasing little skirt until her panties are bared for me.

“Anton,” she says, protesting, but I ignore her and pull her panties to the side.

“I need to taste you.”

She’s as sweet as I’d imagined. I lap at her pussy, savoring every moan I draw out of her, every twist of her fingers in my hair. She takes a page from my book and wraps her hand around the back of my head to lock me in place, but I need no encouragement. Nothing could make me stop.

I swirl my tongue over her clit until she’s panting, then lick long, slow strokes up the length of her pussy. She’s sopping wet, so I slide two fingers inside of her, curling them to hit that spot she loves so much as I flick my tongue.

Her thighs wrap around my head and clamp as her orgasm hits and there’s no place I’d rather be. Suffocate me here, and I’ll die happy. But my cock has other ideas. I stand and slide it in while she’s still quivering, seating myself deep inside of her.

The feel of her gripping my cock is too much. She’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, and I drive into her with abandon, knowing she can take it. Beneath us, the desk shakes but holds. For now.

I can’t get deep enough, hard enough; my body just craves more of her. I bottom out, then pull all the way out again, leaving just the tip inside of her. She squirms, desperate for me, and when I roll my hips and sink inside again, it brings me to the edge.

She matches every one of my thrusts with a twist of her hips, and soon the pace is mind-blowing, my heart pounding in my chest. The desk groans a protest, but there’s nothing that’s going to stop me right now, not even if we shatter it. One more thrust and she tightens around me, her orgasm pushing me past the brink of my own.

“Oh fuck,” I pant, driving one last deep thrust into her as cum pumps from my cock, filling up that perfect pussy.

We come down slowly, her head against my chest as I support her, holding her close so she doesn’t have to lean against the hardwood of the desk. She exhales, blowing hair out of her face.

Walking her fingers up my side, tracing my heaving breaths, she says, “I want to be with you.”

It takes a long moment for the words to sink in and register. “Really? You’re sure?”

“About you,” she clarifies, her fingers passing the dip at the base of my throat and moving up to stroke my jaw. “Yes. But I’m not ready to be involved with your whole world. The other side of it. It’s just too much for me right now.”

I prefer it that way anyway. I’ll do everything to keep her safe, regardless of how involved in the world she is, but it makes my life easier if she wants to keep some separation there rather than diving right in.

“That’s fine. Perfect, actually.” I hug her close. “You can just keep doing what we’ve been doing, helping me with the legitimate side of things. You’re amazing there.”

She’s amazing anywhere, and I’ll take her any way she’ll let me have her. As long as Ella is in my life, I can carry on. Relief is a sensation headier than any orgasm, and it floods my body, leaving me gummy-legged. She’s not leaving. She’s staying. She’s mine.