I squeezed them shut, burying my face deeper into Leo’s neck, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Or that he would and wouldn’t say a word about it.
Either way, he didn’t. He just kept holding me. And for the first time in a long time—maybe ever—I let myself be the version of that little boy who’d desperately needed to be held when he lost his mother but ended up with a beating from his father instead.
26
LEO
Sergei and I had breakfast in silence. He sat on the counter, long legs stretched out in front of him. The absence of chairs didn’t bother him in the slightest. I took the island instead, perched on the edge with one ankle balanced on the knee of my other leg. The setup should have felt ridiculous, but it didn’t.
Being with him felt easier than it had any right to.
We didn’t speak much as we ate, both of us too focused on the food I’d gone out to get. The strawberry pancakes were still slightly warm, the flaky layers breaking apart under our fingers, leaving smears of butter behind. There were other things too—coffee, fruit, and sausages.
Sergei practically inhaled the food. I would have thought it was a way to hide his embarrassment from his earlier meltdown in my arms, but I’d seen him eat before and he swallowed food like there wouldn’t be enough of it if the food sat around for too long.
“Tell me about your childhood,” I said, though I shouldn’t have. If I humanized him, it would be harder to be objective. To do what needed to be done. Ridding the world of Maxim Morozov was doing his future victims a favor, and I couldn’t allow the growing affection for Sergei to come between that. “Unless you don’t want to.”
He stopped eating to raise his head, his brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected the question. Hell, I hadn’t anticipated asking him about his childhood.
“I’m not sure what’s to tell.” He looked beyond my shoulder as though searching for a distant memory. “I was six when my mom died. I grew up with a drunk dad who made sure I didn’t forget that my mother was the whore who wrecked his marriage, and I was the bastard son who should have never been born.”
It wasn’t the information that made my stomach hurt, but the emotionless delivery, like it was something he’d already come to terms with, but who could really forget such a miserable existence? I had to put down the sausage I’d been eating.
“That sounds like a tough childhood. But here you are, doing well.”
His laugh was humorless. “Am I? I have millions, yet I lived in a cramped apartment just to stay close to my boss. Becausethat’sall I cared about. Until now.”
The way he said “until now” left no doubt that what he really meant was “until you.”
“Millions, you say?” I managed to croak out. It was better to lighten the mood than to respond to the challenge in his eyes by hinting that he cared about me. Of course I knew he did. I was banking on that to make him careless enough to share information about his work with Maxim.
He’s going to hate me for this.
“You need money?” Sergei asked, frowning. “You can haveall of mine, though I’m surprised Bradley didn’t have insurance. He made good money working for Morozov.”
“He did. I-I just haven’t reached out to our lawyer or anything. Yet.”
“My offer still stands if you need money.”
I threw the half-eaten pancake at him. He caught it midair easily with a grin and tossed it in his mouth. “Why, Doc, I didn’t know you had a violent side to you. I like it.”
“I am not violent, but I can be vindictive.” I gave him a sweet smile to soften my words. “And how can you offer your money like that? What if, to spite you, I asked for a million?”
“You can ask for it all, and I’d give it to you. You’d just have to promise me that you would never leave me.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Hopelessly in love with you.”
The confession, said so matter-of-factly, landed between us like a missile destroying everything in its wake. For a second, I didn’t breathe. My chest tightened, lungs stalling like they’d forgotten how to work. I’d suspected it, but I never expected him to come out and say it.
My pulse kicked hard, my heart pounding against my ribs. Heat rushed up my neck, into my face, my ears ringing faintly as everything inside me scrambled for footing.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Not like this. Not so soon. Not when I?—
My throat worked, but no words came out. Nothing I could say felt right. My scheme was one thing, but telling him I loved him back to deceive him felt like a betrayal I wouldn’t be able to come back from. I didn’t love him. I desired him. So damn much. But desire wasn’t love.