Page 55 of Devil’s Reign

My Milani is smart—and it’s hot as fuck.

29

MELANI

He smiles at me, and my train of thought derails completely.

I’m not sure he’s ever actually fully smiled at me before. Not like this, open and almost warm, and it does something deeply inconvenient to my insides—they go all melty and mushy. Which is not helpful. At all.

I shake my head and drag my thoughts back on track.

“I wanted to go see my mom today, but she wasn’t in her room. She left.”

His smile fades, like he already knows where I’m going with this. “She’s not a prisoner here,” he says warily.

“Boris said as much.” I lean into him, my nerves pulling tight. Will this work? “Does it make sense, then, that I’m one?”

“What you saw⁠—”

“We both know I’m not going to tell anyone.” I rush the words out before he can finish. “What am I going to do? Go to the police and risk exposing my status as an illegal immigrant? I’m sure you had your reasons for—for what you did.” Even though I can’t say the words, I’ve seen enough of Vanya to know he doesn’t kill without reason. He’s part of a world I barely understand, but somehow, I trust that he only acts when he must.

“Are you now?” His voice is unreadable, his face a blank mask.

I hesitate. Did I play my cards too soon? “I am.” I plow forward anyway. There’s no point backtracking now. “And you also know the other reason why I won’t go around talking about what I saw. I’m sure you know about the Sciarras by now.”

“Emilio Sciarra.” He nods. “He should be spending his resources to find the man who actually stole from him. Your father.”

My lips twist bitterly. “Be that as it may, I can’t risk drawing attention to myself. So your secret is safe with me. Really.”

He expels a long breath. “So what are you trying to say?”

“My mother is a guest here. I want to be one too. Your guest instead of your prisoner.”

His blue eyes slam into mine. If I’m no longer a prisoner, will I still stay? Or will this thing between us run its course and burn out? Neither of us says it out loud, but the questions are loud as hell anyway.

“I’m not letting you go,” he says tonelessly.

That lands like a needle under a rib, but I push past it. “Don’t think of it as letting me go. Think of it as granting me a measure of freedom.” He shakes his head, but I continue relentlessly. “Listen, this is the safest place I can be right now—the safest place from Emilio Sciarra’s radar. That’s why I asked you to bring my mother here.”

His expression softens, just enough to bolster my courage. “I’m not leaving anyway. I have nowhere better to go. But I’d love the option of being able to step outside this suite. Maybe go downstairs for a couple of minutes. Do you know how crazy it is not being able to leave when I want to?”

He lowers his forehead to mine, and his fingers sink into my hair. “You make some fair points. I’ll think about it.” It’s not the yes I want, but it’s not a no either. So I’ll take it.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his lips, brushing them with a soft, chaste kiss.

His cock jumps between us with absolutely no subtlety whatsoever, and his grip tightens in my hair. I can’t help laughing. “You’re insatiable.”

“With you, I am.” The words come out raw and unguarded, and then he’s kissing me before either of us can think too hard about what he just admitted.

The next morning, I wake up alone in his bed again, but this time there’s a small note on his pillow.

If you’re seeing this before 12 PM, I’m in my office.

If it’s after 12, I’ve gone out.

I’ll be back tonight.

It’s not a sweet love note or anything. But the fact that I made my displeasure known and he actually listened melts my heart.