Page 139 of Manic

A few million?

My head snapped to him as he tossed me two passports. I flipped them open. Identities completely different from ours stared back, and a whirl of emotions flooded me. I couldn’t speak, the words practically dissolving into thin air as I tried to process.

“We’ll leave and never come back,” he continued. “We can go wherever you want.”

“I—what if I want you to turn around?”

“If you want to go back, we're both dead,” he clipped, exasperated. “But if that's truly what you want, then we'll face it together. We can turn around and confront my father and the Russians. I’ll be right next to you.”

“What's wrong with you?” I whispered.

“A lot of things,” he gritted.

He quickly pulled the car off to the side of the road with a squeal, shoving it into park. Despite the death grip he had on the steering wheel, a faint tremble overtook his hands. He let out a long, controlled breath, and I knew he was fighting his own adrenaline.

“I just thought…” I started.

I shook my head, more tears collecting in my eyes. I thought he was trading me. I almost killed him.

Manic exhaled and shifted toward me. He gripped my face with both hands, warm on my cheeks. Then our eyes collided, and I lost all logical sense to form an excuse not to disappear with him.

Could we do that? Could we escape this life and create our own? On our terms? It wasn’t like I had anything left here, anyway. Not with my parents. The only person I cared about was staring right at me.

I wanted to believe we could, but I feared it wasn’t possible. Not with the mafia. Maybe Dmitri was right; they would hunt us down.

Manic furrowed his forehead with an emotion so deep it carved into his features. “It's always been you, Sutton. I want a life with you. Forever. And I don't care if it takes a lifetime for you to realize that, but I mean it. You're mine—do you hear me? Mine and no one else's. Mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to cherish.” He searched my eyes, pleading. “No matter how broken I am, you are the only reason I know what it feels like to be whole. My life means nothing without you in it, and I'm not letting you go. I will die before I allow someone to take you from me.”

Tears streamed down my face.

Manic risked everything, and I knew, at this moment, how much I loved him. He was giving me a choice, but I never truly had one. Somewhere along the way, every thought, every choice, every nerve in my body became his to keep forever. And for the first time in my life, this felt right.

“We can have it all,” he murmured. “Just say the word, and we’ll be on our way out of here. I’ll do whatever you want. You want a bookshop or a library? Let’s do it. You want a million kids who will drive us insane? I’ll fill you with all of them. It’s me and you against everyone, and this is our way out. This is our only chance."

As much as I loved his conviction, cold fear still consumed me.

“Those bodies,” I choked out. “They’ll know they aren’t us the moment an autopsy is done. They might look like us but⁠—”

“I’ve already paid off a coroner,” he explained. “Those bodies were criminals who had no business walking the streets. They will not be missed. I recruited them for this reason, but Axell is handling the rest to ensure it’s done. He’s covering for us. The Irish will take the fall. We’ll be free.”

“And Axell won’t say anything?”

“No, baby, he helped me set it up.” His grip tightened on my face. “Say yes. Say you’ll come with me.”

“I love you,” I blurted instead, and his breathing stalled.

He stared at me with an amount of confusion and awe that made me want to laugh yet cry at the same time.

“You’re insane,” I whispered, “but I fucking love you.”

A slow smile spread across his mouth as he dug into his pocket and placed my chess piece in the palm of my hand. Our chess piece. Then he dug into a bag in the backseat, plopping four books into my lap. The books he’d given me at the mansion.

I blinked, and a lump lodged in my throat.

Manic held my face again and leaned in to kiss me, his mouth moving gently over mine before pulling back. Our foreheads touched.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “Can we leave now?”

“Yes.”