Page 23 of The Russian's Stalked Bride
“Physically keeping me hidden doesn’t make me safe. It just means I’m trapped, and I’m not giving you credit for that.”
At that, something flickers in his eyes, and it comes close to looking like reluctant admiration, but it’s gone too quickly for me to focus on. “I’m not like your brothers.”
“No, you’re not. But at least they didn’t act like my saviors.”
When his gaze sharpens, Ivan takes a step closer and deliberately crowds my space. He looks me over, not even trying to hide it. “Careful, Mila.”
The intensity there sends something scurrying up my spine, but I force it away. “With what, hurting your feelings?”
“Pushing me,” he utters, jaw clenching.
In any other situation, I would’ve found his stare too intimidating to stand my ground, but right now, I’m doomed either way. “Good. You deserve it.”
The room feels more charged now, tension pulling far tighter as we hold each other’s stare, unwilling to look away. As much as I don’t want to, I notice how close he is and how solid his body seems. Heat emanates from his skin, seeping into mine in a way that feels far too invasive yet appealing.
It’s aggravating.
“I don’t care about your excuses or justifications, you don’t get to watch me,” I utter, breaking that silence.
Ivan doesn’t flinch. “I need to know where you are.”
“Why? Worried I’ll escape?”
“You won’t escape,” he reiterates, words a touch sharper now. “I need to make sure you don’t get yourself killed doing something stupid.”
Scoffing at that, I pull away. “You sound just like them.”
The claim is thrown out carelessly, yet Ivan stiffens, and it apparently hits harder than intended. “I’m not them. Don’t even start.”
My brows furrow. “Then stop acting like I belong to you.”
He stares at me then, looking like there’s something else he wants to say, only to come up short. Another wave of irritating silence stretches between us, then he huffs out a breath.
“You’re getting bent out of shape over being monitored as if you haven’t been for most of your life. It’s not like this is the first time.”
It’s my turn to hesitate, finding myself dissecting those words much more closely than he likes. “How do you know that?”
Ivan blinks, seemingly realizing far too late what he said, and he can’t hide how a touch of panic moved through his eyes. He quickly masks it with a measuring look.
“You’re from a high-profile family, it’s not hard to assume.”
Sure, maybe it is an easy conclusion to come to, but the way he said it made him sound so sure. So certain that I’ve experienced that kind of privacy invasion before. I search his face then, looking for any mockery or cruelty, but instead, I just see that same focus and intensity. And, something too close to interest.
Forcing the thoughts out of my head, I demand, “What do you want with me?”
Ivan’s gaze slides along my features, and he goes to answer, only to close it again. Then, a quiet breath slips from him. “You’re…important.”
“To who?”
“To your family, and to mine,” he murmurs, looking vaguely annoyed for a moment. “And to others now, apparently.”
My brows furrow, and more anger sparks in me. “Why, because I’m just something to be sold off?”
“No, you aren’t,” he says without missing a beat, and the look he gives me is absolutely intentional. “That’s the difference between your brothers and me.”
That throws me far easier than it should, and I have to consider my words before releasing them. “You still locked me up.”
“I didn’t lock you up.”
