Something deep and immeasurable flickered through his eyes before he looked away. We passed each other, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. I could even smell a trace of his custom-made cologne.

He didn’t stop me.

And neither did I him.

Maybe this was really over.

My stomach twisted into a knot at the thought. My lungs tightened with every breath.

When I’d first met this man, his presence annoyed me. How did I get here, tearing up at the smell of his cologne?

I walked around the city, absently dodging potholes and cyclists, in thigh-high boots. I ate a hot dog from a food truck. Sat on a bench, watched the sunset, and pretended I was in control of my life. When that was so far from the truth.

I’d never felt so lost.

The low lights scattered and reflected the red of my underwear into the clear water as I waded in the pool.

It was late, past midnight. The pool was technically closed, but it hadn’t taken much to coax Trevor the pool boy to slip me an extra key.

I went under, holding my breath until my lungs burned, until it was all I could feel. When I came back up, a prickling sense that I wasn’t alone touched my back. My head swung to see someone sitting on the edge of a chaise, elbows on his knees.

Eyes of melted ice and polished steel looked back at me.

My heart stilled and then filled with a desperate hum.

“I was fifteen,” he said.

Confusion flickered through me, but then I realized what he was telling me. How he’d lost his virginity.

“I’d been in Butyrka for a few months by then. I was in on murder, but trust me, malyshka, they fucking deserved it.”

I’d seen him kill a man for annoying him, but, by the vehemence in his tone, I believed him.

“They could only convict me on one, and I was a minor, so I got off lightly with five years. Ronan was a year younger and only got four. But he dealt with prison better than I ever could.” His eyes grew grim. “I fucking hated that place.”

I waded to the side of the pool and held onto the ledge, water dripping off my eyelashes.

“The most sun I’d get some days was a few shafts of light through a ventilation window. We’d only get a shower three days a week. And even then, you had to fight for any soap provided.”

I suddenly didn’t mind how much he washed my hair.

“One of the correctional nurses noticed I’d read all the books on the shelf. She started to bring me new ones every week. Getting attention from a woman there . . . it started shit with the other men. A lot of them were wary of me. They called me kholodnyye glaza. Said there was something missing in my eyes.”

Now, I knew his worst days were before he’d even gone to prison.

“They usually left me alone, but one day, someone worked up the nerve to rip all the pages out of one of my books. They were the only thing that kept me sane in that place, the only thing with a little bit of order. I saw red. Beat him unconscious. I would have killed him if someone hadn’t pulled me off him. I remember looking down at myself, covered in his blood and mine from a cut on my arm.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And all for a fucking book.

“That’s when I promised myself I was leaving. I was going to build a life for myself, somewhere far from that prison, and somewhere no one would dare touch my shit. I planned out everything from that moment on.” His eyes met mine. “Even down to the type of woman I would marry.”

I swallowed, knowing I wasn’t what he’d envisioned.

“Looking back, I realize the fight started a riot. The place had always been a chaotic mess in my mind that I hadn’t even noticed at the time. I picked up the book and pages, preoccupied with figuring out how to tell the nurse what happened and dreading she wouldn’t bring me more.

“I don’t know her name. I can’t even tell you what color hair she had, malyshka. That’s how little I looked at her.”

The fact he’d always noticed when I changed my hair seemed so much more significant now. A heaviness tugged at my chest.

“I returned her book. And she stitched up my arm. Her hand was shaking slightly. I thought she was nervous to be alone with me—there wasn’t a guard at the door due to the riot. But I soon learned that wasn’t the case when she rested her hand on my dick.”

My breathing slowed, my heart wanting to stop him and my brain demanding he continue.

“She leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head. I thought for sure she wouldn’t be interested after that. But it didn’t seem to sway her.” He ran a hand across his jaw. “I didn’t use a condom with her, malyshka. And I can’t even say she was the only one. A few days later, when one of the guards escorted me to the medical ward, pushed me in the room, and shut the door, she wasn’t alone. Another woman was with her—”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough.”

Only this man would be offered a threesome in prison at fifteen. I wanted to rip those women’s hair out. They must have been significantly older than him.

“I’m clean, Gianna. I’ll show you the paperwork if you want to see it. As for children, I don’t have any that I know of.”

I was slightly overwhelmed with what he’d shared with me, even though I knew he was still holding something back. This wasn’t what he’d been hiding from me two days ago. He was merely offering an olive branch. I didn’t believe I had it in me to demand more from him right now, not with that slightly desperate look in his eyes, begging me to accept what he was telling me. I knew he hated delving into his past. It was messy, and he liked all his things lined up neat in a row. And he’d gone in deep for me.

I pulled myself out of the pool, water sluicing down my skin as I padded over to stand between his legs. I ran a hand into his hair, and a rough noise sounded low in his throat. He grabbed my hips, pulled me closer, and pressed his face against my stomach.

“Fuck, I missed you, malyshka.”

Water dripped off my body, soaking his suit. My throat felt tight as warmth and relief coalesced in my chest.

“I apologize for making you leave.”

“Don’t ever do it again.”

“I won’t.”

He gripped the backs of my thighs, lifting me up to straddle him. It brought our faces close together.

I leaned closer, until our lips were a hair’s breadth apart.

“Why do you kiss me?”

I sighed into his mouth when he kissed me with a sweet pull. “Because you’re the only woman who’s ever tempted me.” His lips brushed mine. “Because you love it.” The last one was soft, with a possessive bite. “Because every part of you is mine.”

I’D MADE A MISCALCULATION.

I couldn’t say it happened often, but the mistake was glaringly obvious in the lotions, hair products, and perfumes that were scattered across the bathroom counter. It looked like a beauty salon threw up in here.

I’d thought I could keep her separate, in a box of her own, all neat and tidy like the rest of my things. She’d already occupied my mind, been so deep beneath my skin, but, fuck, now she was everywhere else, too. My kitchen, my bathroom, my bed.

Surprisingly, all the shit she left lying around didn’t bother me like I’d always thought it would. Occasionally, it made the back of my neck itch—like how she left the toothpaste cap open every time she used it—though, I found it more bothersome when she wasn’t around. So bothersome I was fucking apologizing to her to make her come back. Things had gotten ridiculously out of hand.