Page 12 of The Russian's Stalked Bride
Immediately, the garage smells faintly of oil and concrete, despite its pristine condition, and Ivan parks in a more concealed corner before turning off the engine.
Wordlessly, he gets out and rounds the front to open my door, and the courtesy feels almost strange after what I watched him do. It seems on brand for him at the same time.
I murmur my thanks as I step out, hearing the door close and lock behind me, then I follow along with him, wondering if I’m doing the right thing here.
Ivan takes me through the building like it’s as typical as anything, and I catalogue every detail I can, just in case. The outside of the place doesn’t necessarily scream luxury, but the inside certainly does.
Every surface is smooth and polished, and the gold accents in the lobby catch me by surprise. Though I keep quiet as the elevator climbs higher. Ivan stands casually, checking his phone, while I lean against the wall, feeling as the last of the adrenaline ebbs away.
When the elevator dings and the doors slide open, I glance at the red light signaling that we’re on the top floor, and that catches my attention.
Who the hell is this man?
Feeling a bit more awake as the questions move through my mind, I follow Ivan down a short, clean hallway before he unlocks a door and pushes it open.
Inside, the condo is dimly lit from backlights surrounding the countertops in the kitchen, along with a lamp next to a white sectional across the space by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Immediately, I know I’m in the house of someone wealthy—wealthier than what I’m even used to.
Ivan flicks a switch, and a few more lights come on as he moves through the space.
Despite how expensive the place looks, everything inside is minimal and clean. From what I can tell, there’s no personal clutter or even photos lying around. Everything seems strictly necessary, like he doesn’t spend much of his time here.
“Sit, please,” he says, gesturing to the living room as he unbuttons his cuffs and rolls the sleeves up. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I nod instinctively, feeling incredibly out of place as I head over to the section and sit.
The silence is deafening while I try to distract myself by looking out the window. Not knowing what to do with myself, I wait for him to tell me what happens next, or at least, for the other shoe to drop.
Ivan simply walks through the kitchen with even strides, pulling open smooth cupboard doors in front of him. “You want some water?”
When I say yes, well aware of how dry my throat is after everything, he grabs a glass without hesitation, fills it, then brings it to me.
As I drink from it, thankful for how it soothes me immediately, Ivan watches, but it doesn’t feel quite as heavy as staring would, more like he’s being observant instead of invasive.
After a moment, I set the glass on a coaster on the side table and clear my throat. “Should I call someone, or—”
“No,” he says immediately, though with a disarming gentleness.
That single word settles heavier than it should, and I look up at him. “No?”
“I’m not calling anyone unless you ask me to.”
It’s a bit odd for a grown woman to need to call anyone in this situation instead of just getting up and leaving, but my upbringing hasn’t exactly been normal. I’m used to needing permission, even when it’s aggravating.
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t safe back there, and I’m not going to call the people who put you in that situation,” he says evenly, expression not giving anything away. “I’m giving you space to breathe, Mila, and to think. You can leave in the morning, but I think you should rest for now.”
The moment my name leaves his lips, I freeze.
“How do you know who I am?”
Ivan doesn’t say anything for a beat, then he tucks his hands in his trouser pockets. “One of the guys said your name while they were chasing you. I figured that was you.”
The static that comes with a rush of panic lingers in my system, but his explanation makes sense. Everything happenedso quickly that I don’t remember any of them saying my name, but I don’t think my memory is all that reliable right now either.
I only manage a nod, not trusting myself to speak.
