“Maybe. Still doesn’t mean I kidnapped you.”
“Oh sure, because manipulation and coercion are so much better than kidnapping?”
I stepped closer, close enough to force her to tilt her head back slightly to look at me.
“No one is coming for you,” I said evenly. “Not the feds, not witness protection. No. One.”
Her brows rose. “Is that supposed to be comforting or threatening? It’s kinda unclear.”
“Comforting, for sure.”
Addy searched my face again, trying to find the crack in it, a lie or some instability.
Only, there wasn’t one — just certainty.
Her shoulders lowered a fraction.
“This is insane.”
“Not really.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “And I’m still here.”
“If it makes you feel better, you can tell yourself I didn’t leave you a choice.”
She hesitated for a moment longer before stepping further into the open lounge area and running her fingers lightly along the back of the sofa, as though she needed physical proof it was real.
The engine hummed to life beneath us, low and steady. The dock lights began to drift backward as the boat easedaway from shore. Florida became a strip of glow against the horizon, shrinking in increments.
Addy stood near the railing for a moment, her hair caught by the wind. She was quiet in a way I hadn’t seen yet tonight. No jokes, no sass, no endless questions. She just watched the shoreline disappear, while I watched her.
Finally, she turned to look at me and the humor had gone from her face, replaced with a thoughtful and somber expression.
“We’re in your world now, aren’t we?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure about this?”
I couldn’t tell her that, from this point on, whatever happened would be as new to me as it was to her. I’d proved myself to the Bratva in prison and secured my position, but I had zero experience of leading my men on the outside.
The only thing I was certain of was I would keep her safe, no matter what.
“Yes,” I lied but if she noticed, she didn’t call me out on it.
The tension settled between us then, thick and heavy with everything left unsaid. Addy stepped closer, seemingly unaware she had done so, her shoulder brushing my arm again. This time, she didn’t fill the silence. She just watched me.
And for the first time since we left her apartment, I felt something other than control or thrill or possession.
It was fear. Not of losing her — she’d have to kill me to get rid of me — but of the world taking notice of her. Of someone else realizing what I already knew.
My little devil was both a liability and the reason my fucking heart was beating now. She was trapped on my boat with no way out, and my patience, which had been hanging by a thread, finally snapped.
Circling her waist with my arm, I yanked her flush against my body. Her shocked gaze snapped up to meet mine.
“What—”
“Time’s up. I’ve been dreaming about making you mine for months now, and I refuse to wait any longer.”